How to Tell the Truth from the Lies
by Lady Azar de Tameran
Summary: AU. Very few HBP spoilers. History books say that Salazar Slytherin was an evil wizard, but a thousand years after his death, Slytherin returns to save the Wizarding World. Or something like that. A Harry is Salazar story. HPLL.
1. Prologue: History is Not What it Seems

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

For the Kaleah, who never had the chance.

**  
Prologue: History is not what it Seems**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: Late Winter, 963 A.D._**

Two figures moved rapidly down a long corridor, one slightly in the lead. Their cloaks billowed behind them as they passed door after countless door. The first absentmindedly whistled to himself as he went, running his hand through his shoulder-length hair that refused to lie flat. His face sparked with amusement in the faint light, lips drawn into a ghost of a mischievous smile as he passed a flickering torch and a few snoozing suits of armor.

"Honestly, Godric!" he stated with a faint Celtic accent, smoothing his dark hair once more. "I am not saying that all Muggles or Muggleborns are evil!" He gestured for emphasis. "I just think that we need to be wary of their religion. Most of them believe that we are some kind of demon spawn that will steal their souls." He frowned, one of the portraits gazing at him oddly and then snorting.

"Really, Sal?" his companion intoned with a hint of sarcasm. He shot the offending picture a look before spelling it asleep with a wave of his hand.

"Yes, really," Sal responded fiercely, walking faster now. "They are taught that magic is… that **all** magic is evil." He shivered at the very thought.

"Humph." Godric made a face that his friend didn't see. His dirty, golden eyes gleamed in clear disbelief.

The two stopped at a heavy wooden door, which quietly opened with a single touch from Sal. He took a step inside but halted in front of the doorway. With a flick of his fingers, light filled the room, and he turned to his companion.

"Most Muggleborns think that they are a demon incarnate. They try to hide or – even worse – suppress their magic," Sal stated, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. "Surely, you have noticed that when we go look for students among the Muggles that there are barely any! And further, the ones who we do find are far too afraid to accept their magic. They simply pretend that it doesn't even exist. They know that if they show their powers, their own families would disown them… at the very least! Truthfully, they'd most likely be killed!"

Godric brushed a slightly shaky hand over his robes and commented dismissively, "We do not find many students because there is very little magic in their kind." He stepped into the room, eyes narrowing into slits. "That's why they are Muggles!"

His gaze flickered from his friend to the room surrounding them, briefly lingering on the desks that sat neatly in rows and at the wooden shelves on the walls. He almost seemed to be discreetly searching for something. Almost checking out his surroundings.

The dark-haired man studied Godric for a moment, a strange look flashing across his face. But he continued as if he hadn't heard the other's outburst.

"And I am worried about these attacks that have been happening at the local villages as of late. They seem to be magical in nature. This is doing nothing to dispel the locals of their fear," Sal added after a moment. "Many of them are fleeing, but there is a chance that those remaining will try to retaliate." He shook his head. "I asked Siobhan to stop visiting. It's just too dangerous anymore, but I fear that she will do it regardless." Sal's face filled with worry as he fingered the silver and gold band on his left hand.

"Well, that may be true," Godric allowed very slowly. "However, we will not have to worry about that here." His hands trembled for an instant before he quickly hid them in his pockets. The man's eyes began to noticeably water.

"Yes, Hogwarts is safe." Sal's face softened and smoothed. He glanced around the room and smiled pleasantly. "It took us years to build this place, but I am so very glad that we did, even though it felt like centuries." He paused, something occurring to him. "You know, old friend--"

"Enough, Sal!" Godric interrupted.

He glanced around nervously before zeroing in on a particular object, what appeared to be an amulet of some kind. It was a small and shimmering blue with a bizarre metallic design overlaid. The artifact was situated on a shelf in a darkened corner and was concealed by a thick book, looking to all the world as if it had been purposely hidden there.

The man allowed a tiny smile to grace his face, even as he clenched his hands tensely. "Back to the topic at hand," he ordered, "the one we were speaking of before your little tirade about Muggles."

"Oh, yes." Sal ignored the interruption as though it were a common occurrence. "Rowena said that she left here after showing it to some of the seniors. She just wasn't sure where, although it is probably on one of the shelves." His gaze roamed around the room. "We really shouldn't leave this thing just lying around. It does have some powerful defensive spells… as you undoubtedly recall. A student might be severely hurt if they attempted to even touch it." His lips quirked for an instant, like he was silently laughing.

"True," added Godric distractedly, missing the jibe. He blinked, watery eyes shifting back to Sal, who was standing beside him, still searching. He tightened his hands again, and sweat started to form above his brow, plastering blond hair to his forehead. Something in him twitched anxiously, unhappily, but he fiercely shoved it away.

"At least, it was left in a classroom, not in the Great Hall. It would be a nightmare to look for it there." Another grin tugged the corners of Sal's mouth. "Perhaps we should find a permanent place for it. Or do you think one of us should keep it?" he asked, again turning to his companion.

"I suppose," the other man answered absentmindedly, not even really listening. His belly twisted in a very unpleasant manner.

Sal nodded. He remained silent as he turned back toward the room with a pensive look on his face, momentarily forgetting his search.

Godric's already trembling hands began to sweat as well. And he repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fingers. His gaze flicked from Sal to the amulet and back again, wondering why it was taking the bloody fool so damn long. The thing was right there!

"Hm… Helga would probably be the best for the job. She has a delicate touch that won't interfere with any of its magic," Sal murmured aloud after a few heartbeats. "Or possibly Rowena," he went on. "She is rather fond of blue." He snickered to himself and idly resumed his searching, still thinking over the problem.

His friend merely nodded his head and tried to stop the shaking in his hands. His stomach twisted once more, heart beating painfully in his chest.

"Ah!" Suddenly, Sal's eyes stopped. "There it is!"

He nimbly sidestepped Godric and walked toward the amulet. As he meandered between the tables and chairs, Godric stealthily followed, right hand silently going to an inner pocket of his blood-red robes.

"Finally," Sal quipped as he approached the shelf, not even looking to see if his friend had followed.

Behind him, Godric's hand effortlessly pulled free a thin, silver object.

"You'd think that there was some kind of Invisibility charm on this." Sal laughed, even as he peered intently at the amulet.

The blue of the stone ebbed and flowed like water. Its color darkened from sapphire to cobalt, so dark it was almost black. The metal shimmered from silvery to golden and back. The engraved animal quietly yawning and stretching as though it had just woken up from a nap.

"Still, back to what I said before, I'm worried about these attacks," Salazar inserted as he rubbed his chin. "I think we should find the culprit. That would do a lot to help ease tensions." He gently took the amulet off the shelf and moved to place it in his robes.

"I already know who is responsible," Godric answered quietly, continuing to creep after his companion.

Sal abruptly froze, fingers inches from his robe. "You do?" His face registered disbelief. And a sense of dread tingled down his spine as the amulet burned fiercely in his hand.

"Yes," a voice whispered in his ear.

Sal whirled around, but it was too late. Unexpectedly, he was thrown back into the wall, pain exploding first in his back and then his head. Stars burst in front of his eyes as all the air was forced from his lungs. There was a sudden, sharp pain near his heart followed by the odd sensation of a heavy liquid flooding down his chest. His shocked eyes took a moment to focus, and he stared down as a silver blade was removed from between his ribs. The runic carvings on the surface now glittered with red. And as the room started to spin, Sal managed to glance up.

"It's… you!"

"Yes, and now everyone will think it was you." Godric sneered, casually whipping off his athame. "You didn't even see it coming… so much for Slytherin cunning and cleverness."

His face hardened completely, and he snarled, sending a wandless hex at the other man. Nevertheless, he soon decided it wasn't powerful enough, so he whipped out his wand and let loose a curse.

Sal's vision began to tunnel in as agony shot through him. And he clamped his mouth shut to keep in his screams. He flicked his fingers to put up a shield, but the move failed as his magic sizzled and abruptly died. He then tried to move his hand toward his wand, but his arm refused to obey.

The amulet flared to life in his hand, and the curse ended as Godric was hit by the magical backlash. Sal sucked in a breath, the coppery taste of his blood tainting the air around him. Unsupported, he slid down the cold, stone wall. Although his entire left side felt like ice, his right was on fire from the outburst of the amulet. And in the background, he could hear the other man groan from the floor, his hastily erected shield not enough to protect him entirely.

'Why?'

His mind screamed, "Why?"

And he only belatedly realized that he had asked out loud.

Godric picked himself up off the floor. "Why?" he repeated. "As if you don't know, betrayer. You know. Admit it; you do!" He paused. "As to why they'll think it was you… well, you are a parselmouth. That's reason enough in their minds." His perpetual sneer deepened. "Everyone knows that that is the mark of an evil wizard."

"But… Dark isn't evil… and they will know… that you… hurt me… that you…" Sal stuttered, his mind shutting down. The cold spread throughout his body, even conquering the fire from the amulet.

The blond snarled. "No, they won't. I will simply spell the mess away and make it look like you ran off somewhere. The mark of a guilty heart." He chuckled then, clearly liking that idea.

"But… Siobhan." Sal could hardly speak.

The amulet burned hotter.

"Oh, her! **Your filthy, little wife**! I will make it look like she was the reason you left. Honestly, Salazar! How could you do that to me? Betray me like that?" Godric screamed back. "How could you stoop to such a level? How could you mix her dirty, **muddy** blood with yours? She's nothing but a harlot! A filthy whore not fit to fill your bed! You shouldn't have ever married her! She's ruined everything!" His angry magic saturated the air, making it impossible to breathe.

"And… my… my son?" Salazar gasped.

He couldn't get enough air. A faint music filled his ears. Warmth tried to rise up within him, but it was beaten back by the cold. By the endless and ever deepening cold. It felt like his very soul was being ripped away.

Godric came back to himself. "Oh, I won't harm the child. After all, it is not his fault that he comes from filth." He smirked, a manic cast to his face. "I will raise him as he is meant to be raised. Be the father to him that you'll never be."

The music faltered, and the warmth abruptly faded. Sal saw red everywhere. On his hands. On Godric's. On the silvery athame.

Colors exploded before his eyes.

There was blue, the swirling color of the amulet. Red, the color of his blood and of Godric's robes. Green, the color of his eyes. Silver and gold, the colors of his wedding ring. Brown, the color of his wife's wonderful skin. Black, the color of his infant son's hair.

His last thoughts were of his family.

Siobhan, his beautiful wife. What was going to happen to her? Would she be harmed as well?

His son.

A single tear wound its way down Salazar's face. It dropped to the amulet clasped in his hand, only to sizzle away to nothingness.

He would never see his son again.

And several hundred miles and one thousand years away, Harry Potter awoke with a start.

* * *

AN: Salazar was killed in what now would be considered February, which is late winter. His son was approximately 8 to 9 months old at the time.

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby _and _DracoQueen _for the beta.

_Chapter One: Life is but a Dream_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited: **

**05/31/08**


	2. Life is but a Dream

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter One: Life is but a Dream**

**_Number Four, Privet Drive: July 1st, 1996_**

Startled, Harry practically flung himself up in his bed. His gaze flickered around as he drew in a few shaky breaths, trying his best to still his rapidly beating heart. But his breathing was more sharp pants than anything else, mouth dry as he tried to suck in more air. His hands were sweaty and trembling as he brushed hair out of his face. A shiver raced down his spine, spreading out through his limbs to his extremities.

After several agonizing moments, he finally calmed. His heart took on a normal rhythm, no longer doing its utmost to leave his chest. However, his skin was still clammy and cold, and Harry suddenly realized that he was freezing.

'What was that?' he thought as he drew up his raggedy blanket.

His fingers immediately traveled to his scar, but it was not burning. In fact, it did not hurt at all.

Was it a vision? A dream? Nightmare?

He froze, one hand hovering just in front of his face. Harry had just dreamt that Godric Gryffindor had murdered Salazar Slytherin. But that couldn't possibly be right. In the dream he'd been Salazar! And it had all been so real, hadn't felt like a dream at all! He had felt the blood running across his skin, could smell and taste the copper in the air. He'd felt the amulet burning as it tried to protect him.

Harry shook his head and ran his hands over his face tiredly. He was surprised to find that there were the remnants of tears on his skin. He trembled again, drawling the cover around him even tighter as he tried to warm his practically frozen body.

"What is going on?" he asked himself aloud, silently praying for an answer. But none was forthcoming.

He shivered then, still drenched in sweat. Yet, he ignored it as he slowly unclenched and examined his right hand. Harry half-expected burn marks, the faint outline of a bird with unfurled wings. However, his flesh was whole and unmarked, if not a bit red.

The Gryffindor sat quietly for a few minutes, thinking over what he had just experienced. Every detail was etched clearly in his mind, almost like he had actually been there. But that was silly. Harry had obviously been in his bed the entire time, and he certainly hadn't been around during the time of the Founders.

And his dream… vision… nightmare… whatever had been was certainly over. And he as now wide awake, alert if a bit sluggish.

Harry sighed. He had actually been having a quiet rather night. No dreams of Voldemort terrorizing innocents and not-so-innocents or Sirius falling through the Veil. He said a quiet apology to his godfather at that thought, a tiny spark of guilt welling inside. It was fierce for an instant but ebbed away as quickly as it had struck.

His talk with Luna at the end of the term had helped Harry in more ways than one. Dreamy, loony Luna was more than most people thought her to be. Within ten minutes, she had comforted Harry as no one else ever had or could. All she had done was listen and talk to him, but it was more than enough. She wasn't like the others, like Ron and Hermione. Harry knew that his two friends were trying to help him. But hearing "It's not your fault, Harry. How could you have known it was a trap?" at least twenty times a day only made him feel more and not less guilty. He didn't need to be constantly reminded of his own stupidity.

But even with that, his current summer was infinitely better than the last.

The **discussion** that the Order had with Vernon Dursley at the train station had had a profound effect on life at Privet Drive. Harry was no longer a slave in his own home. The Gryffindor was no longer forced to cook, clean, or do any number of other things. In fact, the Dursleys were now hesitant to breathe in his direction. It was almost as if they feared that by even looking at Harry, they would bring down the wrath of the Order.

That little talk had done Harry a world of good. And he tried to remind himself of that as he attempted to center his focus on something else. The only true complaints he had about his current situation were his nightmares and the occasional vision. If it wasn't memories of Sirius and Cedric, he saw Voldemort and his minions.

It figured that his first somewhat peaceful night of sleep in weeks would be interrupted. And of course, he would dream that he was blamed for the torture of Muggles and then murdered.

Harry exhaled very slowly, massaging his temples. At least, it hadn't been another vision, and perhaps it would be only this once. However, the teenager couldn't help but snort at the mere thought. Knowing his luck, he had a better chance of becoming the next Minister of Magic.

And as if summoned, echoes of his dream began to resound in his head. There were images, flashes of things he had seen. There was a sharp pain in Harry's heart when he thought of Salazar's wife.

A memory rose up in his mind. There was laughter, followed by a bronzed-skinned woman happily rubbing her very pregnant belly. Her eyes were filled with an indescribable joy, and tears of happiness clung to her dark eyelashes.

Harry exhaled heavily and groaned to himself, trying to dispel the image of the woman with a dreamy smile. She looked so very happy, as if it were the best moment of her entire life.

He forcefully shook his head. The image disappeared, and his room came back into focus. The teenager sat silently for a few moments, absentmindedly rubbing his right hand in the exact spot that had been burned in his dream. After some time had passed, he decided to get up, knowing that he wouldn't be able to return to sleep. Plus, there was no sense in simply sitting there until dawn.

Harry reached for his glasses, his hand first landing a recent letter from Remus before finding them. He took them from the bedside table and glanced at the alarm clock. Only to sigh yet again.

It was 4:30 in the morning. He'd only been asleep for a little over three hours.

Cautiously, Harry turned on the light, the sudden brightness causing him to blink rapidly a few times. He eyed Remus' letter, debating whether or not he should write his response. He had read it just before going to bed, deciding to reply in the morning, which it now was. Nonetheless, Harry didn't quite feel up to responding just yet.

The werewolf was not taking the loss of his last packmate very well, as evidenced by his letter, but he was at least trying to reach out to Harry in his grief. In turn, the sixth-year needed time to word his reply, to think it through. He didn't want to lose Remus, not when both of them had lost so much already. He couldn't risk alienating the final link to his parents, so Harry to be careful with what he wrote as there was just no telling how the man would react.

So instead letter-writing, the teenager decided on another course of action. Harry slipped out of bed, kneeling just beside to silently wiggle free the loose floorboards underneath. He bent forward to retrieve a book, thinking about how much had changed just since hearing the prophecy and imagining what Ron would say if he knew.

Harry Potter, the non-studying, Quidditch playing, Boy-Who-Lived, was now a bookworm.

Harry's eyes twinkled in a very Dumbledore-esque fashion, and he actually chuckled. Hermione would just love this. She now had someone who would actually listen to all her study lectures. Though in all honesty, she'd probably insist that his study habits were more of an obsession than an attempt to receive good marks. But learning that one had a proverbial death sentence hanging over their head tended to be a very good motivator.

The teenager knew that he was as good as dead if he didn't do something about it. As he was now, there was no possible way for him to ever defeat Voldemort, and he was the only one capable of it. Harry was not about to die if he could help it; he had survived too much to simply give up now.

Yet, there was a fatal flaw in his scheme. Voldemort was one of the most powerful magic users of all time, far above the average wizard. He was capable of great feats of magic with a single wave of his wand, perhaps even just his hand. He was a fully fledged master in several subjects and knew more Dark Arts than all his followers combined. On the other hand, Harry was only a scrawny, soon-to-be sixth-year with slightly above average grades and a tendency to survive the impossible.

However, the Gryffindor had carefully considered this. And while Voldemort was most definitely superior in terms of raw power, Harry himself could not be too far behind; he had been marked as an equal, after all. To that, he had been able to conjure a corporeal Patronus at thirteen. One strong enough to drive off over a hundred Dementors on its own. Most of the Order members couldn't even do that. Hell, he wasn't certain some of his professors were capable of such a thing, and most of them held masteries in their chosen fields.

Nonetheless, power wasn't what truly set Tom Riddle and Harry Potter apart. Instead, it was knowledge. Magical knowledge. By Harry's reckoning, Voldemort had fifty years of magical learning on him. It would be to his benefit to try to bridge the gap. It was all but impossible for the teenager to catch up completely, but he also needed to learn as much as he could. Voldemort underestimated how much he actually knew, and the Gryffindor planned to use that to his advantage. Harry only needed one true opportunity to kill Tom, while the man constantly had to defend himself.

Still, it would not be good if Petunia, Vernon, or Dudley saw any of his books. Something Harry had realized and conceded very early on in his Hogwarts career. His relatives would certainly panic if they even glimpsed some of his chosen subjects. At best, they would blanch at the mere thought of him studying magic. At worst, they'd probably think that he was trying to poison them.

Fortunately, he had the perfect hiding place.

All in one motion, Harry deftly removed a single book and gently replaced the floorboards. He cautiously propped his single, flimsy pillow and climbed into bed. He leaned back very lightly, careful not to make his loose headboard rattle. It would not do for the Dursleys to walk by on the way to the bathroom, only to hear him making noise.

He scowled as he caught a sight of the title, Intermediate to Advanced Potions. He briefly wondered if the universe was out to get him, making him study Snape's subject on a night like this. It had to be a conspiracy, he realized. He had angered some vengeful deity in a past life, made the Maker regretful for even giving him life.

Harry rolled his eyes at that. And he silently opened the well-perused book to a marked page three-fourths of the way through.

_The _Consterno_ potion was originally used in conjunction with the _Inordinatus_ spell during the Middle Ages. Combined, the spell and the potion have a rather unique effect on non-magic folk (more commonly referred to as Muggles). They create extreme confusion in those who have little or no magic. As such, they provided an excellent means of escape from Muggles and the occasional Squib. _

_During this time period, Muggles were known for their distinct fear of magic and for their desire to destroy all magic-users. Oftentimes, when wizards were visiting local villages or simply exploring, they would find themselves in a riotous situation. In such an event, the wizard would throw the _Consterno_ potion at the mob (carefully as to not hit anyone), use the _Inordinatus_ spell, and quickly escape. _

_These two in conjunction are also useful for…_

A sudden movement just outside of the lamp's light caught Harry's eye. To his left, a shadow was stealthily creeping across the floor. Slowly and surely, the shadow moved closer. Harry listened, but there was no sound. Coming up with a plan on the fly, the Gryffindor pretended to still be engrossed in the text. He gently eased his hand toward his wand, which lay on his bedside table.

The shadow continued forward, oblivious to its discovery and Harry's movement. The teenager's fingers brushed the smooth wood of his wand. In one motion, Harry picked up his wand, left his bed, and turned toward the shadow …

But nothing was there.

Neither a person nor a being. There was nothing.

The teenager quickly scanned his room searching for a trace of whatever it was, hunting around. He looked in every corner, searched under every piece of furniture. He even opened up the battered and beaten wardrobe that had once belonged to his cousin, glancing through the drawers.

But again, there was nothing.

Harry paced around in vain, looking for any spot he might have missed. After a time, he stopped in the middle of his room, studying the lengthening shadows warily. Harry quieted his breathing as much as he could and cocked his head to listen. All he heard were the distant snores of Dudley and Vernon, and his gaze roamed around once more.

After ten more minutes of futile searching, in which he even looked behind his desk and under his loose floorboards, the teenager sat on his bed. Harry's eyes went around again, still looking. He absentmindedly began to rub his right hand. The fact that he hadn't found anything did not comfort him in the least. In fact, it only made him edgier. Something was not right here.

"_**I must be going crazy,"**_Harry said to himself. _**"I have to be! Weird dreams and then seeing things! I know… or at least, I think I saw a shadow move on the floor."**_ In his distress, Harry did not even notice that he was whispering in Parseltongue. _**"I don't know. Perhaps I just imagined it."**_ He shook his head and looked at the quickly-setting yet still bright and almost full moon. _**"It was probably just the light from the moon casting a weird shadow."**_

Harry unexpectedly smirked. He was becoming as paranoid as Mad-Eye Moody. Next thing, he'd be going around hexing random passersby for looking at him strangely. However, a tiny little voice in the back of his mind insisted that he wasn't becoming paranoid. It insisted that he **had** actually seen something move, that there had been someone else… some**thing** else in his room.

Exhaling dejectedly, Harry glanced at his clock and blanched. His face immediately drained of color, while his eyes bugged out.

It was now 5:40!

There was no way he'd spent that much time reading. Ten, twenty minutes tops. But over an hour? He hadn't even read a full page. Further, he highly doubted that he'd accidentally fallen asleep, especially after the dream before.

Something was most definitely wrong. A feeling of dread settled over him. There was a sinking sensation in his stomach. He grimaced, face tight with worry.

What was going on? Was it just his imagination? Were all those years of Voldemort-induced paranoia getting to him?

Harry continued to rub his hand, not even realizing that he was doing it.

Whatever was going on was connected with that dream. He just knew it! It had all started after his strange dream.

Harry glanced at the clock again. The Dursleys would rise soon. Vernon to get ready for work, Petunia to make breakfast, and Dudley… well, he would probably not be up until noon. As if Big D would even make an attempt to wake this early, probably still hung-over from the night before, and Harry rolled his eyes, imagining his cousin awake or even lucid at the crack of dawn.

But even this comical thought could not dispel the uneasy feeling. His face did not lose its worried cast. There was a lurking suspicion in his mind; he knew that he had not imagined it.

There had been someone… or something in his room.

* * *

**_Unknown, The Dark Lord's Personal Library: July 4th, 1996_**

Tom Riddle leaned back in his chair and slowly rubbed at his temples. His head ached painfully. And in a distinct mockery of all his power and magic, he could do nothing to get rid of it. Even several draughts later, he was still in agony. It had been like this for days now, and his servants were even more skittish and fearful around him than usual, terrified that he would snap at any moment. His patience was held together by a thin string, one that was fraying even more as his temples throbbed in time to his heartbeat.

He curled one hand into a fist, using the other to close the book sitting on his desk in front of him. As he was at the moment, it was of little use to him, though that did nothing to diminish its true worth. Priceless, the gem of his collection. The book itself was dark blue, almost black, with shifting runes all along the cover. And even in his current state, he very carefully returned it to the drawer, setting it down with an uncharacteristic gentleness. Tom absentmindedly layered protections over his desk as he stood, but his brain suddenly gave another agonizing stab when he moved too quickly. He growled to himself and shoved his chair roughly back into place, still careful not hit his desk.

Voldemort was not pleased, not pleased at all. In fact, he was so far from happy that the next being he saw would undoubtedly share in his agony via liberal use of the _Cruciatus_ curse.

Unless it was Bellatrix, of course. She always did seem to avoid punishment.

A sharp pain lanced through his brain, and Voldemort jerked back. He winced as his neck cracked loudly, now throbbing just a badly as his head. He made a noise in his throat, a sound that was in no way, shape, or form like a groan. Not at all.

Voldemort had the very sudden urge to collapse back in his chair and bash his head on his desk. It honest couldn't make the throb any worse, might actually alleviate his utter agony. Or perhaps simply knock him unconscious. The only thing that stopped him was how unseemly such behavior was for a man of his caliber.

And the cause of his torment, of this unending torture. A dream. A nightmare really.

Even the mere thought of it was enough to set him further on edge, teeth grinding together. He was the Dark Lord; he wasn't supposed to get nightmares! People like that sniveling weakling Pettigrew had nightmares. Dumbledore had nightmares. Potter had nightmares. Lord Voldemort, master of the Dark and greatest mage in the world, did not!

He wasn't weak. He wasn't afraid of anything. Not even the undead. They were just a tool, a means to an end. They were not supposed to leave him shaking and in a cold sweat. They were not supposed to make him glance nervously over his shoulder whenever he heard a strange noise. They were not supposed to frighten him. They hadn't before, and Voldemort couldn't fathom why they did now.

But perhaps Potter found them just as unnerving as he currently did. Hm… he would have to consider that.

However, that was beside the point. So many peculiar things had happened as of late, and this was only one in a long string of oddities. Bizarre feelings, sensations, flashes, visions of places and people he did not know, surges against his Occlumency shields.

Something odd was going on. Something very odd indeed. And by Salazar Slytherin, he intended to find out what.

* * *

_Consterno_: Alarm, Frighten. Potion. Causes the victim to become exceptionally frightened and to flee.

_Inordinatus_: Disorderly, In Confusion. Verbal and non-verbal. Causes bewilderment and confusion.

AN: I used an online translator, so if the words aren't correct please forgive me.

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby_ and _DracoQueen_ for the beta and to Our Catholic Faith (online) for the Latin translation.

_Chapter Two: A Glimpse into the Past_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**05/31/08**


	3. A Glimpse into the Past

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Two: A Glimpse into the Past**

_Time is my ally. I fear not death. _  
_She is my guardian, my protector._  
_She whispers to me in the dark. I hear her in the wind. I taste her in the rain. _  
_She is my guide. I feel her in the air, in the water, in the earth. _  
_She leads me, shows me the way, and never leaves my side. _  
_She is my dearest friend, my most trusted confidant. _  
_She sends shivers along my bones and brings comfort and peace. _  
_Time is my ally. I do not fear death._

A glittering, blue amulet lay nestled amongst dead leaves. The stone at its center ebbed and flowed like water, and it shimmered through all the imaginable shades of blue with the occasionally hints of green and purple. A metallic design encased the stone, a shimmering bird with unfurled wings.

A gentle breeze stirred the leaves, uncovering the artifact.

"What is this?" asked a soft voice as a man bent down. "Hm… some kind of amulet? I wonder what it is doing here." Emerald eyes studied it intently, even as he fingered a holly wand in his right hand.

"Maybe it is some kind of trap? I should most definitely check it out."

He paused for a moment before casting spells with a flick of his fingers. However, the results only seemed to puzzle the man, and he raised his wand.

"Best use my wand just to be sure. I might need the extra power boost." The mage pointed his wand at the talisman. His lips didn't move as he silently cast several incantations, searching for any hint of evil or ill intent.

The blue stone showed no reaction. It merely continued to swirl.

"No trace of malice nor of danger. It must be benevolent or at least neutral," the man commented. He continued to examine the object, taking in every detail and lightly ghosting his fingers just over the surface. "But why is it here?"

The breeze tugged strands of black hair into his face, forcing him to brush them back behind his ear. Leaves on the surrounding trees swayed and whispered in the wind, and the sky burned the pink of an approaching sunset. Yet, he still continued to observe the object in question, not noticing any of the rest. A pale hand reached down to touch, and two fingertips connected.

The amulet began to glow.

Pure light surrounded the man as beautiful music filled the air. Comforting warmth spread from his fingers throughout his body. The sweet feeling of magic permeated the area and entered inside him, filling his very being. The music gained in intensity, and the man sank to the ground, legs no longer supporting his weight. However, his fingers were still connected. The melody reached a crescendo and faded, taking the light, the warmth, and the magic with it.

The man let out the breath that he had not been aware he was holding. Surprised eyes opened, and he began to chuckle, his warm laughter filling the air. The wind picked back up and swirled around him in a dance. The artifact glowed once again but not nearly as bright.

After a few moments, he silenced. The man removed his hand from and shakily climbed to his feet. He dusted off his dark robes and brushed back his hair. He glanced back to the amulet and watched as it glittered innocently on the forest floor. The metallic bird on it yawned and flapped its wings, as though in the process of waking up.

Hesitantly, the man bent and tentatively touched the artifact

Nothing happened.

He picked it up and placed it in an inner pocket of his robes. The confused man turned, looking up at the darkening sky for a minute before walking out of the forest and toward a distant castle.

* * *

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Faculty Lounge: Early Autumn, 962 A.D._**

Two women were staring over a chessboard, occasionally stealing glances at each other. One inattentively ran her fingers through her honey-colored hair before moving her knight. The second frowned, eyes narrowing and forehead creasing. In response, she moved her bishop, taking the other's knight with a smirk of triumph.

Nearby, a third woman sat by the fireplace and cooed to the small infant in her arms. She softly kissed the infant's upraised hand, her hair falling about her face as she lowered her head. The baby giggled, and the blonde looked up momentarily from her game. Nonetheless, she soon grinned and returned her attention to the board, only to belatedly notice that her companion had already made another move and was even then smugly grinning at her.

She shook her head, contemplating her next move. Her bare feet absentmindedly toyed with the worn but still colorful rug underneath her chair. As she thought, her eyes unfocused and drifted nearby, over to the numerous and completely filled bookshelves. Her gaze roamed over to the countless candles, most of which were already lit despite the fact that there was still some daylight streaming in through the windows.

The blonde spotted the lone man of their quartet sitting in a darkened corner. He was scowling at the page of his book, apparently unhappy with what was there. And he stomped his foot, nearly stepping on one of the other spell books that littered the floor around him. He glanced up unexpectedly, and she gifted him with a warm smile before turning away, missing the dark glare he gave in return.

Finally, just as her opponent was beginning to become cross with the delay, she moved her pearl rook in an unexpected position. "Check," she called, beaming wickedly at her friend, who was surprisingly smiling back. "Why so happy, Rowena? I dare say that you are losing." She tilted her head and carefully studied the woman across from her, even as her rook was captured.

A pair of blue eyes looked up. "No reason in particular." Rowena shook her head with dismay and pulled at her curls when her friend took her ebony knight. "I'm just happy today." She smiled slyly as she moved her pawn to the end of the board and it turned into another queen.

"Humph, no reason! You are glowing with happiness!" intoned the third woman, joining in the conversation. Her face practically sparked with mischief. "You're up to something, Ravenclaw. I just know it." She gently rocked the infant in one arm, while managing to shake her finger with the other.

"Honestly, Helga," Rowena answered, "I'm just happy. Am I not allowed to have a good day?" She shifted in her chair, twirling a fiery curl around her finger as her other hand tapped the chessboard.

"Joy is coming off you in waves," added the first woman. Her crystalline eyes continued to gaze at Rowena, candlelight dancing across her skin. "A pleasant class perhaps. A sudden discovery. Or perhaps some naughty time with Quinn."

Rowena blushed, making her peach complexion look ablaze. Embarrassed more by her reaction than her friend's suggestion. Honestly, she should be used to it by now.

"Siobhan…" She paused and looked away. "There's something I need to tell you."

"Yes?" Siobhan leaned forward a little. Her gaze bored into Rowena, eyes reflecting the candlelight and seeming to glance into her friend's very soul. They looked eerie in that moment, so light a blue as to be almost white.

"Well, I…" Rowena hesitated. Her eyes flickered from Siobhan to Helga and back.

The blonde reached across the chessboard and gently took Rowena's right hand in her left. "You can tell us, my friend." She lightly squeezed, feeling a tremble and rubbing circles on her skin. "You can tell us anything. Is it a problem with Quinn? With your sister?"

"No, to both." Rowena's lips twitched, and it was very obvious that she was excited. "I know I can tell you anything. It's just difficult to say. I--"

An odd looked abruptly crossed Siobhan's face. Her fingers went limp, and Rowena's hand slipped out. She glanced to the open windows on the far wall, noting that the sky was the faint pink of an imminent sunset. She could see the swaying trees of the forest in the distance, the leaves just beginning to change to their autumn colors.

"Salazar?" She whispered more to herself than to her companions.

The other three glanced at Siobhan. Worry etched Helga's face, even though she continued to rock the infant, and she all but stared at the younger woman. Rowena rose and stepped over. She lightly placed her hand on the blonde's shoulder, shaking her gently. Godric merely sneered and returned to his reading, his pyrite eyes glittering dangerously.

"What is it? What's happened?" Rowena asked in a fierce whisper. Her face was filled with concern. "Are you all right? Has something happened to Sal?"

"I don't know. Something has happened to him, but it's not bad. I feel light… and warmth." A dreamy expression crossed her face. "It is so wonderful!" Siobhan continued to stare at the now shadowed forest, seeing the sky turn a deep red.

Rowena glanced questioningly at the oldest woman but was met with the same confused expression. She raised an eyebrow, but the brunette merely shook her head and shrugged carefully, trying not to jostle the now dozing baby.

Suddenly, Siobhan inhaled, causing the other two to jump at the unexpected sound. "It's gone now," the youngest stated sadly, voice heavy. "But I can sense that he is fine." She paused for a moment, smile tugging at her lips. "He is returning to the castle."

Both Rowena and Helga breathed heavy sighs of relief. Godric simply continued to read, not bothering to look up from his book and completely ignoring the others.

The infant stirred. He opened his blue eyes, which were so much like his mother's. He gazed drowsily at the person holding him and squirmed.

"Ah," Helga murmured. She turned to grin cheekily at Siobhan. "I believe that this youngling wants his mother."

Siobhan walked over, bare feet avoiding the cold stone and remaining on the various rugs. She gently took her son into her arms with a wink at the older woman. She bent her face forward and lovingly kissed him on the nose. In response, he cooed sleepily at her, little face alit with pleasure.

Rowena watched with a rapt expression, eyes all but glowing as she watched. Helga caught the hungry glance, giving an appraising raise of her eyebrow in return.

Siobhan didn't notice, too involved with her son. "My sweet little Tristan--"

"Sweet? That he is, my dear. And such a gentleman!" Helga grinned and winked at Rowena. "Of course, he is scarcely more than two months old so he couldn't be too much trouble." She sighed dramatically, taking on the aspects of someone remembering the past. "I remember when my youngest was that age--"

"It was only five years ago," Ravenclaw intoned drolly. "You make it sound like it was a century. And so wistful about it. Surely, you can't want more. You've driven your husband mad with the ones you already have."

Siobhan nodded in agreement before pausing and looking around suspiciously. "Where is Edmund today? Better yet, where are your children?" the blonde asked curiously, glancing back to her own son. "I would have thought their lessons over by now."

"The lot of them are visiting your mother in Hogsmeade," Hufflepuff answered absentmindedly, attention still focused on the past.

Siobhan studied Helga, even as her lips briefly quirked at the thought of Amia, Edmund's mother and her foster parent. Nevertheless, the smile quickly slid off of her face.

"At the village? Even with all the attacks lately?" she questioned nervously. "I know that so far it only Muggles have been attacked, but still, they might choose to retaliate." She worriedly nibbled her lip.

In the corner, Godric Gryffindor stiffened, color draining from his face. The man continued to look at the book in his hands, but his eyes were not moving. He began to sweat, barely resisting the urge to wipe at his forehead.

"I know," Helga answered calmly, "but wards protect the village. No Muggle can see it, let alone attack it." However, she didn't sound entirely convinced.

"But what about when they are going, or when they are coming back?" Siobhan's eyebrows knitted together in concern. "The wards don't extend that far, so part of the journey they'd be exposed." She continued to watch Helga.

"Edmund and I talked about it." The oldest woman blinked slowly. "That is why he took Quinn with them."

Hearing this, Siobhan eased somewhat and turned to her other friend.

Rowena nodded in agreement. "With two fully-trained wizards, the children should be safe enough."

"Besides they kept begging to see Granddame." Helga quipped good-naturedly, "They absolutely adore her. I suspect that they might love her more than me!" She laughed, but it sounded almost forced.

Siobhan shook her head but decided to play along. "I highly doubt that," she replied, glancing back at Tristan before lowered her head and gently rubbed his silky skin with her nose.

"As do I." Rowena tapped her fingers on the chessboard. "Anyone can see that they absolutely adore you. Or more specifically, your cooking."

Away from them, Godric momentarily relaxed. He rolled his eyes at the exchange but said nothing. Feeling safer now, he returned to his reading.

"You're an excellent mother," Ravenclaw carried on without missing a single beat.

Helga flushed. "I'm not the only one." Her brown eyes flicked pointedly at Siobhan, who began to softly sing to her son. She looked back at Rowena. "And I suspect that you will be a great one as well." She grinned, crinkling her nose. "But first, you have to actually have children."

Rowena smirked wickedly, looking to all the world like she was privy to something incredibly important that no one else knew. In that moment, she very much resembled the cat who had eaten the carnary.

"That might be sooner than you think." The redhead bit her lip, fighting the urge to laugh.

Both Siobhan and Helga abruptly froze, a suspicion in their minds. Tristan made an angry noise and glared at his mother. He lifted his tiny fist and tapped Siobhan in an attempt to make her continue singing. The blonde recovered after a moment but did not continue. Instead, she turned her gaze to Rowena.

"I have suspected for a while. I confirmed it this morning with a spell." Rowena beamed, face open and delighted. She twirled around, causing her skirt to float in the air. "Quinn was ecstatic when I told him; he just cannot believe that he is going to be a father."

Siobhan giggled. "This is so wonderful!" she added truthfully, excitement at her friend's good fortune building.

Rowena and her husband had been trying to have a baby for several years. It was good that they were finally able. Siobhan had long feared that one of them might be barren.

Helga finally recovered, and she hastily jumped to her feet and hurried to her friend. She threw her arms around Rowena and tightly hugged the younger woman.

"I am so very happy for you," Helga whispered in her ear. She pulled back and looked directly into Rowena's eyes. "I know that you have wanted this for quite some time." She fought the urge to cry.

Siobhan continued to beam. "This truly is wonderful. I…" She paused. Her attention flicked to the door. Her smile grew even wider, if that were even possible.

A few seconds later, the door burst open. A slender, dark-haired man hurried in, his robes billowing behind him.

"Siobhan! Rowena! Helga! Godric!" Four sets of eyes instantly looked towards the man. "You'll never believe what I have found!" the man put in excitedly, almost forgetting to breathe.

"Calm down, Salazar!" Gryffindor ordered from his corner. He abruptly rose from his seat and marched over to the other man.

Sal held out his hand. "But look!"

A small, blue amulet glittered on his palm. The metallic design around its edges glinted and shimmered from silver to gold, and the watery stone flowed through various shades of blue.

The other four adults stared at it in awed silence. Even the infant, still held firmly in his mother's arms, appeared amazed.

"What is it, Sal?" his wife murmured after a few heartbeats, she was bursting with almost uncontrollable excitement.

"I don't know," he replied softly. With his free hand he brushed a loose lock out of his face. "I found it in the woods. When I first touched it… I don't know. Light. Music. Warmth," Sal added with awe.

His wife tore her gaze away to look up at her husband. "So this is what I felt--"

"You felt it?" he interrupted with amazement.

"Yes," she murmured back, "such light…"

By this time, the other three adults were recovering from their shock. They shook their heads but continued to stare at the artifact. Tristan, who was still enthralled by the stone, lay quietly in his mother's arms. A covetous look suddenly appeared on Godric's face. He swiftly reached over and snatched the amulet out of Sal's hand. A blinding light filled the room, followed by a wave of heat and a muffled scream.

An instant later, the light cleared. Godric lay stiffly on the floor, four feet from where he had been previously. His red robe was pooled around him, the firelight causing it to look a little too much like fresh blood. He clutched at his burned hand and moaned in pain.

Roughly a foot away laid the talisman. It gleamed innocently.

Helga gasped, "What… What was that?" She gaped at the artifact, face very tight as she gaped in shock.

Sal made a neutral sound, and he deftly sidestepped the three women and kneeled next to Godric. He took his friend's hand and examined it, running his fingers along the edges. The palm of his hand was charred and red, and the design of the amulet was branded onto his flesh. Godric noticeably winced as Sal ghosted over it but didn't make another sound.

After a moment, Sal laid his palm over the burn and quietly mouthed a spell. Slytherin's hand glowed and design slowly disappeared, the char and the redness following. Godric sighed in relief and clambered awkwardly to his feet. He glanced at the amulet, face spasming dangerously. Godric pulled out his wand and viciously pointed it at the object, a curse upon his lips.

Sal, noticing what his friend was about to do, rose from his kneeling position. He placed his pale hand firmly on Godric's shoulder.

"No! At least, not yet."

Godric glared at the other man but relaxed. He slowly lowered his yew wand.

Meanwhile, Siobhan handed her son to Hufflepuff. She took cautious steps toward the artifact. The others looked at her with alarm, but she disregarded them.

"Siobhan," Helga said urgently. Her face filled with apprehension.

The blonde ignored her. She slowly knelt and tapped the amulet with her index finger.

It shimmered brighter but did not harm her.

She picked it up gently and stood. "Well, that was… odd," she commented. Her gaze sought out Godric, and she looked at him with concern.

"Maybe it just doesn't like him," Helga quipped lightly, trying to lighten the mood. She turned and winked at Godric before silently returning her attention to the amulet.

He practically growled in return, not amused at all. He looked at them with thinly concealed disgust. No one noticed, however, for they were all too busy examining the artifact.

Rowena slowly approached Siobhan, hesitantly stepping forward. She tentatively reached out and touched the artifact.

Again, it glowed brighter but did no harm.

The redhead gently took it from Siobhan's hand, and she ran her delicate fingers over the metallic design. She softly flicked the swirling stone. It felt odd, not at all like a stone. It was liquidy but was not moist. Puzzled, she turned the talisman over. On the back of the mysterious stone was some form of writing.

"Look at this," Rowena stated softly, running her fingers over the script. "It looks like some sort of inscription."

"Hm… yes, it does," commented Siobhan, studying the writing with a great deal of interest. "But it is not in any language that I am familiar with."

Sal left his place at Gryffindor's side and joined the two. "I didn't notice this before," he said slowly and studied the script as well. "I have not seen these runes before either, though they do resemble ancient Parsel writings."

"Really?" Rowena asked and bent forward. "I guess it does look a bit like Parsel." She straightened up and glanced at the others. "If Salazar doesn't know what it says, then there is very little hope for the rest of us. He is, after all, the best with runes."

Slytherin took the compliment in stride. "I suppose." He shook his head. "This is very peculiar," he put in absentmindedly.

"Peculiar?" questioned Helga. "The whole thing is odd. This is just a day of weird things." Hufflepuff glanced from Salazar to Rowena and back. She added, "And of surprises." Her face took on an unusual and somewhat dangerous look. She snickered; an important thought had just occurred to her.

"Guess what," Helga commanded Salazar, and she moved from one foot to the other, practically dancing with mischief. She didn't even wait for him to reply. "Rowena is with child."

Sal's gaze left the amulet. He turned to glance at Rowena, looking pleased but not surprised by the announcement

Rowena froze. "You have such impeccable timing, Hufflepuff," she stated sarcastically, face twitching somewhat. She glared at Helga and crossed her arms over her chest.

"It is as good a time as any, my friend," Helga defended sweetly. She smiled without a trace of guilt.

"Humph. I--" Rowena started to say.

"Well," Sal inserted, "I think that her timing is wonderful." His lips quirked. "Congratulations, sister of my heart." His smile turned into a full-blown grin. "And may there be many more children after this one."

Rowena blushed and looked away. She shrugged, hair sliding in front of her face to hide her embarrassment. Ravenclaw glanced back to the object that lay in her hand, avoiding Sal's amused eyes.

Gryffindor stood haughtily to the side, ignoring the conversation around him. He simply stared with disgust at the artifact and defensively pulled even further away.

Siobhan looked at her husband suspiciously. "You already knew. How did you already know?"

Sal smirked at her. "I suspected." He winked cheekily at his wife. "Call it Slytherin intuition."

"Slytherin intuition!" Helga commented dryly, "He can sense any subterfuge or secret a mile away."

Sal merely continued to smile. His gaze flickered back to Rowena, who was staring intently at the metallic design on the artifact. He watched as her mouth dropped open and her eyebrows rose in surprise.

"What is it, Row?" Salazar asked curiously, noticing her reaction to the item.

"This design." She indicated the metal pattern etched on the amulet.

"Well, what about it?" Helga questioned, nibbling on her lip.

Rowena inclined her head. "Well, it almost looks like a phoenix."

* * *

_Converso Graviditas_: Dealing with Pregnancy. Verbal and non-verbal. Confirms pregnancy.

AN: Oh, on a side note, there is a back-story to Siobhan, Salazar, and the rest of the Founders. It is kind of weird, but part of it will be included in this story as dreams, flashbacks, etc. and part of it will be in the sequel. Yes, there is a sequel. It partially includes the three years that Hogwarts was built. As of now, there isn't any of it written, but there is an outline. Plus, it is connected with the mysterious, blue amulet (BIG HINT).

Also, this story and its sequel now officially include Hermione/Bill Weasley. Yes, I know that there is quite an age difference, but when there is love age doesn't matter. I know this for a fact; all I have to do is look at my grandparents. They are EIGHTEEN years apart, which is far more than the difference between Hermione and Bill! So there you have it; this story will have Hermione/Bill.

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby_ and _DracoQueen_ for the beta and to Our Catholic Faith (online) for the Latin translation.

_Chapter Three:__ A Thing Called Trust_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited: **

**05/31/08**


	4. A Thing Called Trust

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

For my grandfather, Carl (1929 – 2004)

**  
Chapter Three: A Thing Called Trust**

**_Number Four, Privet Drive: July 9th, 1996_**

Emerald eyes opened and blinked several times, and a sigh shuddered through a still-too-thin body. A teenager sat up quickly in an old, creaky bed, and his fingers rubbed his eyes before moving to his temples. A somewhat shaky hand reached toward a bedside table and brought a pair of silver-framed glasses to his exceptionally tired face. He sighed again, a slight smile touching his lips.

Harry Potter had just dreamed about Salazar again.

Only this time, it had been rather good. Especially the part where Godric had been knocked on his ass. He laughed at that, smiling with satisfaction at just the thought. He couldn't help but be biased. His was a Gryffindor, and his founder shouldn't be such a bastard.

Harry sighed again, mind turning to Siobhan. A slight blush tainted his cheeks. Siobhan Slytherin was certainly no Cho Chang. Not the least be weepy or hung up on her snobby and treacherous friends.

Harry shook his head and ran a hand through his still stubbornly untidy hair. He knew he shouldn't think things like that. Siobhan was just in his dreams, completely imaginary. He didn't even know if Salazar had ever been married, much less if that was really his wife's name.

He shook his head again vigorously, blush deepening as he cheeks went from pink to red, adding a hint of color to his pale face. He couldn't believe that he fancied a fantasy woman, one who existed only in his head. He could only imagine what Ron and Hermione would say.

Harry threw himself back and landed on his flimsy pillow. He groaned heavily and fought the urge to bang his head on something hard.

Ron would probably laugh and think him completely insane. And Hermione… well, she'd just shake her head and come up with some logical explanation for it all. Like it was his way of compensating for having bad experiences in relationships or some other plausible explanation.

He shrugged his shoulders, tapping his fingers on his chin. He brushed a loose piece of hair out of his face and tried to pat it down into place.

Perhaps she would be right. That didn't mean he wanted to stop the dreams. He'd had them every night for over a week, and it simply wasn't enough. He wanted to know what happened to them. What **had** happened to them.

Each time, his dreams were different but always about Salazar. True, they had all been from his perspective, but they included the other founders… and Siobhan.

Strangely enough, bar the very first, they had all been pleasant. Sure, some of them had only been about common everyday experiences, such as teaching the students at Hogwarts. Yet, to Harry, each had been an adventure into the life of someone else. Someone who didn't have to battle his own fame, someone relatively normal. As time passed, it felt less like they were dreams and more like glimpses, memories of the lives of the founders.

And stranger still, the people seemed vaguely familiar. Harry felt as though he actually knew them, like they had all met before. They were almost like long forgotten companions from a time before he attended Hogwarts, from before his parents died, from before he was even born.

But that was impossible. Completely and utterly mad. Wasn't it?

It was one thing to have visions of Voldemort and his minions. They shared a connection, after all. But people he had never even met before? He wasn't a bloody Seer! He was no Trelawney.

Harry shivered at the thought. It was all a bit unnerving. Maybe he really was crazy.

Still, his dream… memories were not the only odd occurrence. In fact, there had been many bizarre things happening lately. Even strange for a wizard like him.

The first had occurred the day following his initial dream. Harry had started reading a new Defense book, only to become so engrossed in it that he read it all the way through. Yet, much to his surprise, less than an hour had passed, from start to finish. And the book was over a thousand pages long!

Other strange incidents soon followed, much to the dismay of the Dursleys, not that they really realized what was going on. It was like time seemed to speed up or slow down of its own accord. One minute, Harry was weeding Petunia's flowerbeds. The next, it was still morning, and all his chores were complete. Despite the fact that it should have taken all day.

Truth be told, it almost seemed as though time had a mind of its own, but there were additional peculiar happenings as well. Though he hadn't seen the moving shadow again, Harry still felt as though he was continuously monitored. It always seemed like there were eyes watching him, taking note of everything he did. The Gryffindor couldn't even get a glass of water or use the toilet without feeling like he was being observed. Sure, he could write it off as anxiety from being constantly watched by members of the Order, but the teenager wasn't quite certain that they were the cause.

Harry suddenly rolled his eyes at the thought of the Order. They tried so hard to be invisible, but how could he possibly miss they were there? It was pretty hard to miss the sounds of their Apparations. Plus, with Tonks practically tripping on the cracks in the sidewalks, he would have to be an idiot not to notice.

He smirked then, but it was more out of resignation than of malice. The thought of the playful, friendly, but very clumsy Auror always brought a smile to his face. Tonks was rather amusing on her own, but coupled with her inability to remain standing for more than five minutes, she was a laugh-riot. The fact that she had actually gone out of her way to write and even speak to him when she wasn't supposed to over the passed few weeks further endeared her to him.

However, Harry's thoughts soon drifted back to his other watchers, making him shiver. They were still outside, but it felt as though someone was inside the house with him. It was possible, however, that the Order knew something about it. And that only made him wonder what else they were up to, especially since the Weasleys and Hermione were no doubt…

Harry suddenly started.

Hermione. He had totally forgotten!

Harry silently threw back his thin blankets and slipped out of bed. He quickly moved to his desk and turned on a wobbly lamp. His excited fingers picked up a small envelope and opened it in with a single movement. Inside, there were several thin sheets of paper, all of which seemed to be covered by incredibly neat but still tiny writing.

Harry mentally berated himself for forgetting her letter. He had no idea why he had even done so. Especially after Tonks had gone out of her way to deliver it, owl post somewhat sketchy as of late and too easy to intercept. At least, that's what Tonks had said.

He growled at himself as he unfolded the paper and started to read.

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope you are well and that you are not being too hard on yourself. As I told you before, Snuffles' death is not your fault, Harry! There is no way you could have known that it was a trap. You only wanted to protect him, and in turn, he only wanted to protect you. He loved you! He wouldn't want you to blame yourself_…

Harry frowned heavily, eyes drifting away from the parchment. His shoulders drooped as he listlessly gazed at a spot on the far wall. Hermione's words were very true. Deep down, Harry still felt traces of guilt. However, at the same time, he knew that it was not his fault. There was no way he could have known; he had only wanted to save Sirius.

The Gryffindor forcefully steeled his shoulders, turning his gaze back. His gaze rapidly skimmed Hermione's letter, stopping at a more cheerful part.

…_As you may have already guessed, I am currently at the headquarters with all of the Weasleys, even Bill and Charlie. Percy isn't here though. I believe that he is still living in London somewhere. Bill told me that Percy spoke to Mr. Weasley at the Ministry and that Percy wanted Mr. Weasley to apologize! Can you believe that, Harry? I don't know how Mr. Weasley responded – Bill wouldn't tell me. He did, however, start laughing every time that I asked, so it must have been rather interesting._

_A lot of things have been happening here lately. Fred and George have joined the Order. They were inducted the day after we returned from school. They had some sort of ceremony, but only Order members were allowed, so I am unsure of the details. Over fifty people came, but then there was have a meeting directly after the ceremony. I suspect that is why there were so many. _

_Plus, something important is going on. I'm not sure what, however. Though, it must be big. The Order is having constant meetings. Members keep randomly popping in and then just disappearing. It must be REALLY big. No one will tell us – Ron, Ginny, and I – anything. Mrs. Weasley still thinks we are far too young to know, though I am beginning to wonder if she might actually be right. At least for some of us. I continue to ask Bill, but he said that he was sworn to secrecy. Even Fred and George won't tell, no matter how much Ron badgers them. We can't even use their Extendable Ears anymore because they refuse to lend us any! I just wish I knew what was going on._

_Even more, I wish you were here. It is just not the same without you. Sure, Ron is here, but he is not very good company. He has been even more… difficult lately. I know that I haven't been spending much time with him, but I have been talking with Bill a great deal recently. He has just so many interesting things to say! I know that curse-breaking was exciting work. After all, they do have to avoid being cursed themselves. But I never imagined it would be this fascinating! Honestly, the level of detail and thought that went into the curses. Did you know that the ancient wizards made a specialized curse that was only used for Nefertiti's tomb? Apparently, it was designed to not only incinerate anyone who tried to enter, it also would cause painful burns to appear on that person's family, and Bill said that this wasn't even the most interesting one!_

_Bill has also been helping me research your scar. After all, he does know a great deal about curses. We really don't have anything conclusive yet, but we have discovered some interesting things, like about your mother's sacrifice. Everyone knows that when Voldemort cast the spell on you that it reflected back, that your mother's love saved you…but what we didn't know was that when she died it was like a countercurse to _Avada Kedavra_. This was why it reflected the spell back. I am sure you know what this means Harry. _Avada Kedavra_ is supposed to be immune to deflection and, more importantly, reflection! If we can somehow make a spell that mimics the effect of your mother's love we might have a counter to the curse!_

Harry froze. Hermione's letter slipped from his unmoving fingers onto the worn floorboards.

A counter to _Avada Kedavra_? People had been trying for centuries. Even Nicholas Flamel had failed. It was a fool's hope for certain, but the mere chance that it could work was priceless. They could save dozens, hundreds of people. There would be no more victims like his parents and countless others.

A sharp shake of his head ended Harry's train of thought. He quickly blinked and coughed to clear his throat. After a moment, the teenager bent and retrieved Hermione's letter.

_It might not be possible, though. Still, we can only hope! Bill and I will continue to work on it. I know that the odds are stacked against us, but we have to try._

_I pray that you are well. And please take care of yourself, Harry. For my sake, if not your own._

_Love Always,_  
_**Hermione**_

Harry smiled faintly. He'd try, if only to make her feel better. His grin faltered for a moment but then returned full force. His green eyes sparkled once again, resembling the headmaster's for a moment. Even though most of the letter wasn't very informative, it was good to know that Hermione had thought to write. Ron apparently hadn't.

A heavy sigh escaped Harry. He wrapped his arms across his chest and shivered but not due to the coolness of his room. He had a dark sense of foreboding, and the teenager could not help but feel that something was wrong. Something that centered around Ron.

"It is more than Ron being **difficult**, as Hermione put it," Harry murmured to himself. He clenched and unclenched his right hand subconsciously. Unaware, he began to gently rub his palm.

In truth, he could understand why Ron was acting that way. Anyone with half a brain could tell that Ron fancied Hermione. It was painfully obvious! And everyone knew how he was when Hermione even thought about speaking to another male.

Harry rolled his eyes at the thought as visions of an infuriated Ron raging about Viktor Krum filled his head. A slight smirk played at his lips.

Ron was known for his irrational jealousy, and it sounded like Hermione had been spending a great deal of time with Bill. This in itself would have caused problems, but it also seemed that Hermione might like Bill as more than a friend.

If Ron wasn't acting likely a git because he was insanely jealous then Harry was a flobberworms. But there was a darker edge to everything, a feeling that there was something else entirely going on. Perhaps Ron was still bothered about what had happened at the Ministry. And either way, this situation had catastrophe written all over it.

Absentmindedly, he lifted his fingers to his temples and began to rub small circles. He could already feel a headache coming on.

But Harry suddenly froze. Something was odd, wrong. There was someone else in the room… again.

A mysterious presence filled the entire area, and it silently approached the desk where Harry stood. The presence moved hesitantly behind and to the left of him, to avoid the lamp's light. It continued to edge nearer, as though it were trying to catch him unaware or read the letter held firmly in his fingers. It crept closer, inching forward slowly.

Harry could feel the presence just behind his elbow.

The teenager whirled quickly, knocking a small figure to the creaky floor. As if by magic, a holly wand suddenly appeared in Harry's hand, even though it had been all the way across the room, on his bedside table. Without hesitation, he pointed it at the shocked creature.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Harry stared at the being as it shakily rose to its quivering knees. His forceful glare took in the bat-like ears. The clean and neatly pressed tea toga. And large, luminous eyes.

It was a house-elf. But not Dobby.

"Peachy is sorry, master wizard!" the creature cried in a rather squeaky and androgynous voice. "I wills punish me!" It raised its small head forcefully and made as if to bash its head against the worn floorboards, and only Harry's quick reflexes prevented the action's completion.

"NO!" the teenager stated forcefully, his green eyes gleaming. "No punishment."

"I musts, master wizard. I is failed in my mission. I is seen by you. I is betraying and spying on you!" The house-elf started to sob. Its large eyes brimmed with tears. It again moved to bash its head, but Harry's hand stayed the action.

"NO!" Emerald eyes shimmered with power.

The house-elf froze completely, an expression of absolute terror on its face.

"There will be NO punishment. And don't call me master! I am just Harry," he calmly stated, power echoing in his words.

"Yes, mas… Harry, sir." The little house-elf trembled, and its tiny hands clenched the tea toga and wrung nervously. "My master doesn't like to punish either," it informed him slowly, finding a knot on the floorboards very interesting. "Sos it should be okay."

The Gryffindor raised an eyebrow at that bit of information but momentarily chose to file it away. "Now, what is your name?" Harry asked instead, using a very gentle tone. He idly wondered if the house-elf was male or female.

"Peachy, sir!" it answered, its very large eyes finally meeting the young man's green ones.

"And what is your mission, Peachy?" Harry kindly intoned, still trying to figure out if the little being was male or female.

"I is to watch you, Harry sir. And to--" the house-elf again froze, wringing its hands.

"Yes?" the teenager questioned softly, magic in his voice. A fire burned in his eyes.

"And to tells my master all of what you do, sir." Peachy looked as though he, or was it she, might cry at any moment. No doubt due to ever-increasing the emerald flame in Harry's gaze.

"Who…" the Gryffindor paused.

Brilliant and still very fiery eyes flicked to the elf's tea toga. On the left side, just above the heart, was a crest. There were four animals: eagle, lion, badger, and serpent. And each was on different colored background.

The Hogwarts crest.

Harry breathed, "Dumbledore!"

"Yes, Harry sir. Master Dumbledore is my master!" the elf answered with something bordering on awe. Apparently, it was very surprised that Harry had managed to figure out the mystery without any clues.

The fire intensified, blazing with power. Then, suddenly… it disappeared.

"Thank you for being honest, Peachy. You may return to your **master** now."

"I mays, Harry sir?" it asked, face broadcasting surprise.

"Yes." A mysterious gleam appeared in the young man's gaze. "And be sure to mention that you spoke with me."

"As you command, Harry sir!" it whispered nervously, bowing very low despite the Gryffindor's peeved expression. With a quick snap of its thin fingers, the house-elf disappeared.

Emerald fire returned full force.

Harry fumed. He couldn't believe that Dumbledore would send a house-elf to spy on him! That is what the Order members outside were for!

Green eyes blazed brighter.

The sheer nerve of that man made him grind his teeth. He clenched his trembling hands. Harry could feel his rage growing. His magic rose up within him, a fiery surge of pure energy trying to escape…

But it didn't.

The blazing surge receded, leaving behind a tingling sensation and a great warmth.

Harry had controlled his power.

Afterwards, he quietly sank onto the rickety desk chair. He sat, lost in thought, for several moments. And then, the teenager breathed deeply, a sly smile forming on his lips. The mysterious gleam returned to his eye. A plan had already begun to brew in his mind.

* * *

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby _and _DracoQueen_ for the beta.

_Chapter __Four: Within Plain Sight_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited: **

**05/31/08**


	5. Within Plain Sight

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Four: Within Plain Sight**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Faculty Library: Mid Autumn, 962 A.D._**

Red and gold swirled in a wave of molten color, and deep blue eyes flashed. Perfectly frustrated teeth ground together, while a petite body trembled with annoyance. A heavy tome slammed onto an oak table. A comfortable leather chair slid away from said table, but the shaking figure did not rise.

Rowena Ravenclaw was not happy.

At a little over four months pregnant, her mornings were spent with continuous waves of nausea and constant sickness, and her thin, bony fingers were regularly swelling to twice their normal size. She was being plagued by odd aches and pains. Some were sharp. Some throbbing. Some even seemed to be burning. Nevertheless, all were painful. Inexplicably, or rather the opposite, her favorite clothing seemed to be becoming much too tight.

These, however, were not the cause of Rowena's ire. In fact, she didn't even seem to notice any of it. All her attention, all her focus was on a swirling, blue amulet.

"Calm down, Row! It does us no good if you are upset," a soothing voice stated, coming up behind her. Gentle hands began to rub circles on the woman's back, and the candlelight gleamed off of the bronzed skin of her companion.

Rowena inhaled sharply, eyes widening in surprise. "Siobhan," she breathed, "I didn't know that you were in here!" She twisted in her chair and exhaled in a rush. "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that!"

Siobhan smiled. "I did not sneak." She tossed her head dramatically, but her face sparked merrily. "I have been calling to you for several moments, but you were… er… **preoccupied**."

"Humph!" Rowena snorted. "It's this damnable amulet!" Her nostrils flared in contempt. "Or rather the inscription on the back," she growled with guarded eyes. "I have looked through countless books. I have searched through parchment and scrolls. I've even read the blasted stone tablets." She threw her hands into the air dramatically. "For the love of nature and all that grows, I must have pulled dozens of writings from the shelves, but I still cannot translate the inscription!" Rowena tossed her head, her fiery mane whirling around her. "I have yet to even identify the language!"

The other woman's face took on an expression of complete surprise. "You don't even know the language? I thought that you at least knew it was related to Parsel writing." Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why did you not ask for help? I would have been more than happy to assist. And surely, Sal or Helga--"

Rowena interrupted her, "Everyone was so busy, especially with school going full force." She shrugged, her shoulders sagging slightly. "You and Salazar have the baby to worry over. Helga and Edmund have their own concerns with their brood. And with your mother ill, all four of you have a whole other set of responsibilities. Plus," she carried on, rolling her eyes, "who knows where Godric is right now? Honestly, he keeps mysteriously disappearing. I believe that he might be having clandestine affair!" She chortled at the thought, quite taken with the idea of Gryffindor finally having a lover.

"And Quinn?" Siobhan inquired softly, coming around to the side.

The redhead hesitated at the mention of her loving husband. "He has been helping, but with my pregnancy, he has been taking over more and more of my responsibilities." She flicked a strand of curls off of her shoulder. "He barely has enough time as it is. Sal has even taken over some of the slack to give him more time. And…" She hesitated.

"And what?" the blonde questioned.

Rowena looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Well, Quinn is starting to act so paranoid! He will only let me teach a few of my classes--"

Siobhan interrupted her with a chuckle, lips twitching as she tried to cover her mouth. "Yes, first time fathers can be a bit… overprotective."

"I've noticed," the redhead stated dryly. "But Salazar wasn't half this bad!" she added, emphasizing her point with her hands.

Siobhan smirked darkly, looking a bit too much like Quinn for the other woman's comfort. "Let's just say that Sal was… **persuaded** not to be!" Her crystal eyes flashed.

"Persuaded?" Rowena questioned skeptically. "How did you ever manage that?"

"With the a few choice hexes." The blonde's smirk deepened.

"Hexes?" An expression of complete confusion crossed Ravenclaw's face. However, her head swiftly snapped up with sudden understanding. "You hexed him!"

"Yes!" the blonde answered and grinned wickedly.

Rowena paused for a moment, but her lips quickly curled into a satisfied grin as she sniffed. Unexpectedly, she began to laugh, imaging both the look on Sal's face and some of the spells his wife had probably used against him. Siobhan wasn't a Master of Charms for nothing.

Siobhan, in turn, gazed at her friend in bewilderment before starting to chortle as well.

"If Sal was half as bad as Quinn, I cannot really blame you," Rowena wheezed after a second. Her face started to redden as she tried to breathe between chuckles. "I can just see it now." She mimed like she was reaching for her wand and cursing an imaginary Salazar Slytherin.

At this, Siobhan began to laugh even harder. She collapsed into an empty chair facing Rowena, her small hands clutching her now aching sides.

"You should have seen the look on his face the first time." Siobhan gasped for breath.

"Oh, I can imagine," Rowena inserted between laughs, eyes glittering with unshed tears. "I might just have to borrow your idea and use it on Quinn!"

"Aye. I would like to see that!" Siobhan smirked, her sides heaving as she tried to draw in air. She shook her head, leaning an elbow against the table.

Rowena blinked rapidly several times and wiped tears of mirth from her eyes, and she took a deep breath, her gaze taking a serious gleam. "Thank you, my friend," she whispered, "for lightening my heart."

Siobhan smiled and winked. "I believe it could do with more lightening," she replied gravely, but her smile never faltered. She held her hand out to her friend. "Come with me."

Rowena glanced around, indecision clearly written on her face. "I really should continue--" she began, but a shake of Siobhan's head stilled the statement. The redhead hesitated for another moment but eventually linked her hand to her friend's tanned one.

As the two women rose and walked arm in arm to the door, a large book left a distant shelf. It floated gently through the air toward the previously occupied table. Scrolls lying forgotten in a dark corner lifted and soon joined. A cracked and almost illegible tablet rose, following the path of the other objects.

Yet, the women, so intent on their destination, were oblivious to it all. They never saw any of it. Nor did they notice the increased glow of a swirling, blue amulet.

* * *

**_Hogwarts, Potions Master's Laboratory: The Same Night_**

In a deep and not so dark dungeon of Hogwarts Castle, a half-dozen cauldrons bubbled happily. Blue, green, and even neon pink were all visible within. Potion ingredients such as herbs, plant parts, and unrecognizable animal specimens all lined the stone walls.

A man with thick, black hair that was graying with dignity at the temples sat at a large desk. Several essays lay scattered about him, and his spidery fingers held a large, eagle quill, scratching at a parchment in front him. He smirked to himself as a snarky comment was added to the margin of an essay, immediately followed by a few more. He glanced from the writing to the two people at a nearby table, who were leaning over a cauldron and snickering to themselves. His smirk deepened.

A rather young student with surprisingly nimble fingers was carefully chopping ingredients, eyes intent on his work. Beside him stood another man, who was clearly supervising. He was older but still quite young in his own right, and he casually and seemingly at random threw a few ingredients into the bubbling green-brown liquid. After a moment, the boy finished cutting up his basil and showed it to his professor.

"Excellent, Elgin," the man commented with a grin. His gaze flickered to the third person sitting at the desk. "I knew there was a reason why you prepare the ingredients, while Quinn – our ever-loved Potions master – is forced to grade papers," he intoned mischievously. "Your Aunt Helga will surely be pleased," Salazar added.

Although his eyes remained upon his work, Elgin nodded his head and smiled, his grin very reminiscent of another Hufflepuff. The boy turned to his next ingredient, willow bark, and reached for his mortar and pestle.

Quinn, however, glanced up. He mocked snarled, "Why, Salazar, I did not know you were so very amusing."

Salazar beamed. "Apparently, I am not the only one with a sense of humor." Green eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief. "I only wished for you to relax." He took a deep breath. "You would think that Rowena was due any day instead of several months from now. You've been somewhat difficult with her as of late, as you undoubtedly know."

The older man's lips thinned aggressively. "I most certainly have not. I merely insured that she was taking adequate care of herself and our child--"

Sal interrupted, "Yes, you have." He hesitated, breathing out loudly. "See, my friend, just now. Even when you are simply speaking of the baby, you become difficult… **overprotective**." Slytherin sighed, slender fingers raking through his dark hair. "You must calm yourself, Quinn. Put a stop to this, or else she will employ Siobhan's method of persuasion." His mouth pulled distastefully.

Quinn frowned and gave the other man a questioning look. "And what exactly would that method be?"

Salazar shrugged and turned away, crossing his arms over his chest in a defensive gesture. "Trust me, dear friend, when I say you do not want to know." He grimaced. "Ever," the man finished, turning his attention back to Elgin, who had mutely listened to the exchange.

Quinn growled, not unpleasantly, and returned to his grading. Yet, his eyes remained fixed ahead of him, and he chewed on the end of his quill. He was clearly thinking about what Sal had said.

Salazar, in turn, glanced back a final time before he returned his full attention to Elgin. "Now, tell me," he asked his student, fighting the urge to smirk in triumph as he discretely glanced at the other man. "Why must we add the rosemary?"

* * *

**_Hogsmeade Wizarding Village, Home of Amia Hawthorne: The Same Night_**

Within her warm and inviting home, Amia Hawthorne lay dying. It was a wasting disease, sucking the very life from her. Every day, her eyes lost a little of their sparkle and her face became even more wane than it already was. Quite a feat as she was exceedingly emaciated, little more than skin and bones.

There was no cure. The Healers were not even sure what ailed her. It had come upon her so suddenly. In the early autumn, she had been completely healthy, bright and full of energy. Now, barely three months later, she fought desperately to live. The Healers had never heard of such a thing, and therefore, they could do nothing. For nothing, not even magic, could rid her of her ailment. It could only alleviate the pain, make Amia forget for a few short hours.

Nonetheless, everyday Amia deteriorated. The pain worsened daily. Everyday Amia struggled harder. A little more life left her every day. It was almost as if her very life force was being drained, being pulled away.

Currently, the Hawthorne matriarch laid dazedly within her bed, in the state between wakefulness and dreaming. Her sea-green eyes were half open, fixed on the ceiling. In the background, a fire crackled merrily, heating the room. But it did nothing to warm her. The chill of death was too powerful to be overcome.

Next to her bed, gentle-faced woman sat within a rocking chair. She hummed soothingly to Amia and stared distantly into the fire, her expression covered with shadows. The firelight glittered on her hair, casting red shadows in the normally brown locks and making her head look ablaze. Her wondrous and gentle fingers rested upon Amia's brow, rubbing soothingly. She exhaled and several tears rolled down cheek. She didn't even try to wipe them away.

In the corner, a man was fast asleep, his chair leaning against the wall. He quietly mumbled, speaking within his own dream world. And his head began to loll to the side, causing his remaining hair to fall onto his worried face. With each breath and each whisper, his hair puffed out softly into the air and floated lazily back to his face. His rather prominent nose twitched comically as the strands landed. He sneezed and awoke with a start. And his eyes, which were so much like his mother's, sleepily flicked about the room.

At the noise, the lady in the chair turned, her expression filling with surprise and concern. Green eyes met brown.

"Go back to sleep, love," the woman whispered. "It is not yet your turn to watch."

"How is she?" the man asked, all traces of sleep gone from his face.

"The same. No worse." A wane smile appeared on her face, throat tight and eyes glittering with tears. "But no better."

The man made as to rise, but he was stopped with a glance. "Helga," he murmured.

She shook her head and toyed with a bracelet on her wrist. "Go back to sleep, Edmund, or else you will be unable to watch her later. She will need you then."

Edmund stared at her for a moment, studying her tired face. He nodded and closed his eyes, but he twitched uncomfortably in the chair. But within minutes, his breathing evened, and he was again dreaming.

Helga gazed at her husband for several long moments until she sighed heavily and turned away. She peered warily around the room, taking in the crackling fire, the warm rugs on the floor, and the sick and dying woman curled within the bed. Her gaze traveled to the window on the near wall; it was far darker outside than it should be. Perhaps a storm was coming.

The brunette slowly stood and glided to the window, dark eyes gazing toward the sky before a sudden movement on the street outside caught her attention. It was a cloaked figure, a man, moving stealthily but quickly toward the seedier part of the village. Hateful energy shrouded him, pushing away all the friendly shadows of the night, black rage wrapped so tightly that all other feelings were stifled. The man walked stiffly but swiveled his hips in a definite strut. He carried himself with arrogance and anger, and Helga spotted this much in an instant. She had seen both often enough as of late.

Lightning flashed, casting partial light onto the man, but Helga could still not see his face. He stopped momentarily, and his head tilted skyward. She moved quickly to the side of the window, hiding in the shadows.

It would not do to be seen spying.

But the man shook his head and continued on his way, Helga watching all the while. There was something familiar about this man. His gait, his movements… were so very familiar.

Her lips twisted suspiciously, a cold sense of dread rising within her.

* * *

**_Hogsmeade: The Same Night_**

The wind whispered. It ripped through the streets, tearing at a wooden sign on a shabby building. Seething clouds arose and rumbled, blocking out the twinkling stars. An arc of pure light lanced across the sky.

A storm was coming.

Darkness shrouded a cloaked figure as did anger. He walked stiffly, arrogantly, as though he owned the entire street and the very village it went through. The friendly shadows of the night trembled and drew back as he swaggered by. Wrath itself cloaked him as he walked.

A spear of light crossed the sky, and the man paused just beyond a well-lit home and looked upward towards the stars. He stared for a moment, an arrogant sneer tugging at his thin lips. The man haughtily tossed his head and continued down the street. A feeling of pure malice permeated the air around him.

A great evil would take hold this night.

The man approached a dingy building, quite new but still dirty. An equally filthy sign hung precariously above the ill-fitting wooden door, and it pictured a severed hog's head in a pool of blood. The wind increased, twirling dust and dirt about the man as he entered the building.

The floor of the establishment was dirt. Yet, that fact was impossible to tell under the filth that had accumulated. A conglomeration of candles lay upon various surfaces, providing the only light, save that from the dying fire in the stone hearth. A surprisingly well-kept bar lined an entire wall of the room. And an older man with graying hair stood behind it, a rag in his callused hands, wiping the surface.

The cloaked man marched to the barkeep and barked his order. As he ungraciously waited for his drink, his strangely glittering eyes searched the dimly lit room. The metallic orbs flitted over the few patrons, clearly focusing on the corners. He noted the amber-haired man in the near one before turning his attention to another figure. He quickly paid for his drink and made his way to the other darkened corner and the person within it.

He, or possibly even she, was also cloaked. But in blood red with a black robe peeking out underneath. He sat, back to the walls, facing the door. A deep, red liquid sloshed as his fingers gripped a glass and brought it to the unsteady table. The only greeting he gave his new tablemate was a sharp nod.

Instead, he turned to look at a dingy mirror on the near wall that glittered in the dim light, and the interesting scene it showed. For while the table, spindly chairs, and drinks were featured in the cracked glass, only one person was in the image.

"You have what I seek?" a harsh voice questioned.

The table's occupant focused on the newcomer. The stranger sat and pulled his cloak forward carefully so that it would not drag on the earthen floor. The second man nodded. Spidery fingers pulled back the deep, red cloak and reached within his robe, producing a sheathed dagger. His fingertips danced along its length, pulling it completely free. Light shimmered along its length, showing the runes etched on the metal.

The stranger smirked maliciously. "Excellent," he purred, metallic eyes glowing. "And it will serve my purpose?"

"Yes," a rich voice, obviously male, answered. "It will suffice," the words continued, voice sounding sophisticated and cultured. "But to prevent a return, he…" The man paused, considering his words carefully before continuing. "The… ah… victim must die. It must be a deathblow." He resheathed the athame and gently laid it upon the wobbly table.

"And he will never return," the newcomer interrupted.

"Only if summoned; that will break the enchantment, and he will… progress normally."

At these words the first man stiffened, tossing his head angrily. But before he could respond the second man continued.

"But from what you say, no one will want for him to return." The original occupant paused, an unreadable emotion visible in his silvery gaze. "And from what you have planned, no one will even know he is dead and gone. So there is no need to worry."

The stranger thought for a moment and then nodded. His hand went to his cloak and produced a bag filled with coins. He ceremoniously tossed it upon the table, the fingers of the other male catching the bag before it even touched the surface. He, in turn, looked at the bag curiously, glancing towards his companion.

The first man simply laughed and scoped up the dagger. "For your troubles," he responded smoothly.

The second did not look convinced. "And my silence?" he questioned rather sarcastically.

The newcomer simply inclined his head, hand traveling to his drink. He held it up in a toast. The other reluctantly raised his own glass, liquid swirling inside.

"A pleasure," the first saluted, smiling and causing shivers to shoot up his companion's spine.

Regardless, the second remained impassive, but a slight flicker of emotion appeared across his face. 'I am only doing this for the others,' he thought miserably, 'for the innocents… for those who have died.'

His gaze traveled to his companion, who was currently studying the athame with interest. The red-cloaked man shuddered faintly, an odd feeling of dread surfacing within him. He had a sudden urge to snatch the dagger back and to renege on their deal, but he ignored the feeling. A slight breeze passed through the bar, tugging at his cloak and making him shiver again. It were as if Fate herself had just passed by, leaving him behind in disappointment.

The second and still trembling man quickly finished his drink and left his chair, gracefully rising to his feet. He nodded and made for the door, pausing to look back before he exited. He sighed heavily, squashing his earlier urge.

'Now is not the time for reluctance,' he thought as he pushed open the wooden door. He looked back a final time before quickly leaving.

The first figure remained for another moment, an evil look crossing his face. His eyes gleamed with an unholy light.

In a far corner, another man was quietly drinking. His head was cocked to one side, deepening the shadows on his face. His molten eyes glinted angrily. Though he was quite far away, the man had heard every whisper of the pair. He had grimaced with each malice-filled word. He snarled slightly, showing his enlarged canine teeth. He shook his head, and his hands clenched the tabletop hard enough to leave large gouges. He rose, ignoring the rest of his drink.

He now had more important matters to see to.

* * *

**_Hogwarts, Faculty Library: Several Weeks Later_**

Two women bent over several large pieces of parchment. The first, a redhead, idly traced her fingertip along a line of text, scowling as she read it. The other, a golden blonde, sat back and ran a very tired hand over her face before leaning forward again.

Nearby, countless books and a single stone tablet were scattered across an oaken table, but all attention was focused on a single volume. The two sets of blue eyes, one azure and the other very pale, continuously moved from the parchment to the tome. On a far corner of the table, there was a glittering, blue amulet.

One of the women sighed. "Siobhan," she muttered, "how goes your translation?"

"Fine." The other glanced up, her gaze questioning. "Why? What is it, Rowena?" she inquired, pausing to stretch her aching back.

"This part is odd," stated Rowena, indicating her portion of the translation. She was clearly puzzled. "It is appears to be written in verse form, almost like a poem."

Unbeknownst to the two, the talisman began to churn faster. It faintly started to glow.

Siobhan's eyebrows rose in clear surprise. She hesitated for a moment before murmuring, "What does it say?" She ran her bronze hand over her face once again.

The amulet glowed brighter.

"_Time is my ally. I fear not death._"

* * *

AN: This chapter takes place in what is now December. Also, slowly the elements of everything should start to pull together in a logical fashion. At least, I hope so.

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby_ and _DracoQueen_ for the beta.

_Chapter __Five: Righting a Wrong_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited: **

**05/31/08**


	6. Righting a Wrong

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon. There are a few references to _The Lord of the Rings_ by J.R.R. Tolkien, as well as _Sabriel_ by Garth Nix in this chapter.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Five: Righting a Wrong**

**_Hogsmeade Wizarding Village, Hog's Head Tavern: Late January, 1977 A.D._**

Not much had changed in the millennium since the opening of the Hog's Head. The floor was still dirt, and it was still impossible to see said floor under the filth. Only now, it was the grime of several centuries, instead of several years. The only light in the establishment remained unchanged, still coming from an assortment of candles and the embers of a perpetually dying fire. Even the type of clientele had not changed. The cloaked and shadowed people continuously found refuge in the Hog's Head.

But there was another far more important thing that remained unchanged within the tavern. Sitting within a darkened corner was a shrouded figure. He sat quietly, sipping at a deep, red liquid within a wine glass. Occasionally, he would stir, disturbing the scarlet-red cloak that covered his body. Even after one thousand years, whenever Dominic de Dorée visited the village, he always stopped in for a drink.

Of course, his preferred drink was not alcohol related, like many of the other patrons, but rather blood.

Dom was a vampire, after all, so to each his own.

Dominic sat silently, lost in thought. Whenever he journeyed to a familiar place, memories of the past would always resurface. One in particular always came to mind when he was in this particular tavern, and it was not a pleasant recollection. Sure, he had provided the means to the eventual death and disensoulment of an evil man, but Dom still felt guilty.

Many mortals would scoff at the idea of a guilt ridden vampire, especially if the remorse was a result of death. However, vampires were much more than most people even realized. Few would ever drink of humans or other sentient creatures. Those that did, only took what was willingly given. For, of course, everyone knew that to take it forcefully was to lace the life-giving substance with fear and violence, making it taste foul. Blood was much sweeter when offered freely.

Taking a life was different for his kind, for vampires. They remembered almost everything. One of the many benefits, or rather curses, of their kind. The recollections of each life taken were pooled into a vampire's subconscious until it was impossible to distinguish where the memories ended and the real world began.

Certainly, vampires like all living things needed to eat, to have nourishment, but they did not require the flesh of others to survive, only the blood. They were not forced to kill in order to live. So they would drink lightly, enough for them to be sated and for the other to live. Except in rare cases, a vampire only killed in defense of self or others.

And that was how Dominic had justified his actions. He was defending others; he had ensured that an evil was slain.

'But I did not have to curse him,' Dom reflected remorsefully, jaded eyes gleaming in the candlelight. 'I did not have to banish him eternally to the realm between life and death, into limbo. I did not have to stop him from being reborn, from living again.' Guilt, fierce and true, rose up even stronger within him. 'From making amends.'

Dom continued to sit, staring off into the distance. Every few minutes, he absentmindedly sipped his drink. He was so lost in thought that he did not even notice when it was all but finished and that he was sipping air instead of liquid. After almost an hour of quiet contemplation, Dom finally rose, swirling his cloak out behind him. His hand went to a pocket of his robe, producing two bronze coins, both of which were laid upon the wooden table. He moved from his chair toward the door and to the outside. He nodded smoothly to the barkeep, swiftly exiting the building.

Dom strode down the cobblestone street, cloak billowing behind him. His thoughts still churned in his head, old and ever present remorse raging in his mind. The wind picked up, scattering the few remaining dry and dead leaves. High above him, the perpetually twinkling stars sparkled and shined.

'I wish that I could change it,' Dominic thought wistfully, rubbing his face with his hand. 'I wish that I could give him another chance. Everyone deserves a second chance.'

An arc of color danced across the sky, a shooting star. Nevertheless, the vampire didn't see it as his eyes were fixed on the ground.

Dominic continued down the road, mind oddly blank after such a confession. He passed several darkened but friendly homes, all snuggly secure with sleeping inhabitants. The man swiveled his head, eyes easily taking in all of the sights, even with the surrounding darkness. To his right, in a stand of tall trees, he noted a faint and colorless light. Pausing for a moment, he turned slightly, approaching the foliage. He strolled to the very edge of the wood, hesitant to enter.

The wind tugged at the hood of his cloak, pulling it back from his pale face. Deep brunet hair that was so dark to be almost black floated in the breeze. A pair of eyebrows scrunched, and indecision was clearly written on Dom's face.

'It could be those crazed Death Eaters!' he thought forebodingly, growing far more uneasy. While vampires were Dark, they were most certainly not evil, quite unlike the new **Dark** Lord and his followers.

However, a tiny voice within Dom admonished the idea, 'Why would Death Eaters be putting on a light show in the middle of the woods, mere meters from Hogsmeade?'

The vampire considered his own question, looking at the puzzle from all angles. On one hand, it really could be the Death Eaters, most likely preparing to attack Hogsmeade. On the other, it could be something else entirely. Perhaps it was a few students from the school out of bounds or maybe a ritual for the upcoming holiday.

Finally, after many moments of indecision, his soft voice whispered to the wind. "Should I?" he asked his favorite element, calling on it to guide him right.

The light breeze increased, blowing strongly against his back. It tugged at his cloak, all but pulling it and him toward the trees. Another ferocious gust soon joined in and pushed Dom forward, into the woods.

"I will take that as a yes," he stated with a noticeable smirk. A hand went to a pocket of his wizarding robe, producing a willow wand, while with his other he gathered magic. "Just in case," he murmured to both the wind and himself, pulling more power into his awaiting palm. "One can never be too careful, and I might need the extra boost." His silvery eyes gazed into the trees, using the mysterious light to discern between shadows and solid objects.

He walked slowly and silently, carefully avoiding the noisy branches and leaves scattered across the ground. The vampire went deeper into the wood, searching for the elusive source of light. Finally, after several minutes, Dom approached a clearing that was lit up as bright as day. Yet, eerily it was completely empty of people, save himself. The source of the light seemed to be coming from the ground in the very center of the area. Dominic gripped his wand tighter as he cautiously approached the light source, only to notice that a strangely shimmering blue jewel was upon the ground.

He carefully studied the glowing stone, watching as it flowed and ebbed as though water was trapped within the crystal. Etched on the top was a metallic bird, complete with unfurled wings.

After a few heartbeats, Dom tucked his wand back within his robes. He then bent down and grasped the object… Only to find himself lying on the cold, hard ground, staring at the starry sky an undeterminable amount of time later.

He groaned loudly, attempting to sit up. The vampire tried to place both palms firmly on the dying grass in order to push himself upwards. But this attempt also failed, for clasped firmly within one was a merrily sparkling, blue amulet.

Dom moaned again, suddenly remembering exactly how he had ended up on the ground and what had transpired to put him there. A single touch of this odd talisman had shown him the truth.

He had cursed and banished an innocent man.

Feeling that it just wasn't his day, he scowled more at himself than at stone. "Alright," he acquiesced, "I will do as I should have done centuries ago."

The stone, rather happily, glowed brighter.

Dom merely sighed, shaking his head. After several abortive attempts, he finally stood. The brunet hurriedly placed the amulet within his robes before dusting himself off. Thinking that he had best hurry, he used a trickle of magic and disappeared with a small and barely noticeable musical pop. He had places to go, people to see, and souls to bring back to life.

* * *

**_The English Countryside: Early May, 1977 A.D._**

The stars twinkled brightly and quite merrily within the velvety sky. A soft breeze blew through the countryside, rustling the spring leaves. High atop a meadowed hill, a diamond of protection sat within a circle of summoning.

The points of the diamond were represented by glowing runes etched onto stone. Each was a different color, standing for different elements and cardinal directions: the yellow of air facing east, red of fire going south, blue for water pointing west, and green of earth facing north. The circle was complete and perfectly formed, glowing a mysterious white. It fully encircled the diamond, touching each of the points. Off to the side, a neatly folded red cloak sat along with a well-filled traveling pack and an enormous stack of books. Most were from his own personal collection, but a number had been temporarily liberated from his workplace. However, he wasn't worried that anyone would question why the books were missing, especially not when considering the fact that no else had high enough clearance to even look at them without his permission.

In the very center of the diamond, Dominic de Dorée knelt among the spring flowers. A faint coating of frost covered his robe, a sharp contrast to the warm, spring night. His skin was exceptionally pale, whiter than the twinkling stars above. Even for a vampire, Dom looked pale. He appeared… well, he looked dead.

The wind picked up, blowing sharply into his face, but of course, Dom didn't notice. His mind was elsewhere, deep within another plane of existence, the plane of death. He was, after all, attempting to summon Salazar Slytherin back to the land of the living. The key word, however, was **attempting**.

Dom's mind had finally found his quarry, deep within the plane but oddly separate from it, an eternity after his search had started. He pulled gently on the wispy resemblance of Salazar Slytherin, freeing him from the chains encircling him. The soul slowly followed, easing its way out of death and into life, where Dom could completely free him and direct him to be reborn.

The vampire and his odd companion evaded any guardians present and passed the gates, which by some grand design were meant to keep souls going forward into death, not back as Dom was headed. Forward meant a resting place, be it heaven or hell or something in between, where a soul would rest or languish for a time before returning to life. Yet, Dom could not venture that way, unless he wished to be completely reborn as well. Only certain things, particular beings, were allowed to move about indiscriminately. Necromancers such as him were not one of them. It took a special sort to do that.

So he had been forced to settle for the backdoor equivalent of death.

Eventually, after what seemed another eternity, but was most likely only seconds in the living world, Dom approached his goal. Yet, just as both reached the shaded area, the line between life and death, a wall of pure magic slammed between them. It threw Dominic back into life and Salazar back into the margins of death.

High atop the hill, silvery eyes flew open, and Dom inhaled deeply. He suddenly growled, gnashing his teeth together.

"**It did not work**! How could it not work!?" Dom practically howled in frustration, his face hardening and lips curling into a distinctive sneer. "I know I countered all of the runes on the athame! I know I did!" His hands traveled to his head, tightly pulling on his hair. "Bloody Hell! Even after ten centuries, I still remember all the damn runes I used on the blasted thing!" He rose rather forcefully to his feet and began stomping around the white circle of summoning.

He paced around the circle, attempting to discover his error. He stomped around the circumference several times, kicking several rocks out of the way and muttering curses to himself in Gaelic, Latin, and a few languages that were probably extinct. While his pacing may not have helped Dom discern his mistake, it did alleviate his fury.

'I most definitely remember all of the runes,' he carefully thought after he had managed to calm down. 'Vampiric memory is good for some things, after all.' A tired hand traveled to his face, he idly began rubbing his chin, lost in thought. 'And Godric knew next to nothing about runes; that is why I had to make the bloody athame in the first place,' the vampire added with a hint of bitterness. 'Godric could not have modified the dagger.'

He did another full walk around the circle, almost stepping in a hole along the way.

'So what went wrong?' Dom pondered, dodging the same hole. 'I know that I am not the most brilliant necromancer, but I do have some skill. The only thing that could completely block my efforts would be if some other form of magic was interfering.' The man hesitated in his pacing, a shadow crossing his normally handsome face. 'It would have to be powerful… and long lasting. But what kind of spell fits?'

He stared off into space for several moments, thinking hard. 'Well,' his mind began, 'a blood curse--'

His train of thought came to a crashing halt. His eyes widened with surprise, and Dom nodded with a sudden burst of inspiration. He remembered hearing that mentioned before.

He hurriedly left the circle, momentarily breaking the ring of magic. Dominic strode straight to the stack of books, lifting the first one he came upon. He rapidly flipped pages, going to the index. He searched through the entries before finally discarding the text and throwing it over his shoulder. He picked up a second one, his eyes were almost a blur as they read, soon discarding it as well. He automatically reached for another, opening it hastily. He repeated the entire process several more times, until finding the desired passage:

_The __Sangre__ Effect__: _

_First noted in the early first century by the famous necromancer La Muerte, this effect only applies to those cursed by a blood relative, while also under necromantic influence. Although the effect can take many forms, all involve the cursed remaining under the necromantic influence or spell, regardless of the duration of the original enchantment, unless released by another member of the bloodline. _

_The most notable case was that of Denethor of Tirith who remained under the effect for almost five centuries. After burning his youngest son alive, Denethor was cursed by his remaining children and his estranged sister. This curse coupled with a preexisting necromantic spell, involving Denethor's rebirth as a flobberworm, led to a most interesting happenstance. Denethor was perpetually reincarnated into flobberworms until a descendant of his original line took pity and released him…_

His eyes lifted from the book.

The Sangre Effect? A blood curse?

Dom considered for a moment. Which of his relatives had Salazar pissed off enough for that?

He again glanced down at the page. 'I guess it does not matter now,' the vampire mused whimsically. 'But to free Salazar, I will need a blood relative.' A small smirk appeared on Dom's lips, 'I will need an heir of the line. An Heir of Slytherin.'

As quickly as the smirk formed, it soon vanished. Dominic exhaled slowly, sensing he was about to be involved in things he rather just avoid.

Sadly, there was only one known… **person** fitting that description.

* * *

**_St. Ottery: Early July, 1981 A.D._**

The moon glowed peacefully, casting pale, pure light across the sleeping land. Numerous houses simmered faintly in the moonlight, but one in particular seemed to draw the mysterious orb's radiance. It was a nice home, simple but with character. It was situated within the countryside and encircled by trees, and lights from the distant village could be barely seen across the horizon. A large and extensive garden covered much of the backyard, extending all the way to the faraway tree line. The home was an interesting one, two storeys tall with a tower rising above. Still, it was not too large and far from small.

In a word, it was simply perfect.

Inside the home's well-lit kitchen, a lady with golden blonde hair held a wooden spoon. She stood next to a wall, near the hearth, stirring a heavy, iron kettle that was situated over a crackling fire. A safe distance away, in the near corner, sat a carriage-like piece of furniture, complete with infant inside. The baby was awake, her pale blue eyes staring dreamily at the enchanted ceiling of her carriage.

The woman turned abruptly as the baby suddenly sneezed, and she immediately strode to over, her grey robes swishing as she walked. She bent down, gently caressing the child's face with her unoccupied hand. Clearly, she was the child's mother.

The mother's hand traveled to the top of her daughter's head, soothing the gold and silver tresses. Yet, she paused in her movements at the sound of a faint knocking on the backdoor. She straightened, her deep eyes staring. Again, she heard the soft sounds of a tap. Thinking that it was her husband playing some sort of joke, she stepped to the door and opened it.

Outside, just within the circle of light caused by the kitchen, there stood an unfamiliar man. He was richly dressed with a red cloak atop a tailored wizarding robe. Although no wand was visible, the woman immediately knew that he was magical.

"Greetings," he stated in a cultured voice, smiling faintly. "My name is Dominic de Dorée. May I come in?"

The mother gazed attentively at him for a few seconds, searching for any sign of deception or danger. She carefully searched his face and eyes, but she found only honesty with a hint of sadness. Something deep within the woman, told her to trust him. Nonetheless, she twitched her left arm, causing a maple wand to fall from the holster on her wrist into her waiting hand. One could never be too careful during such trying times, after all.

"And may I inquire as to why you wish to enter?" the mother rebutted effortlessly.

An amused expression crossed Dom's face. "I only wish to speak with you, and it is becoming rather chilly outside."

The mother genuinely grinned, stepping back from the door. She nodded her head in acceptance, but Dom did not enter. She again gifted her guest with an inquiring look and hint of suspicion. Her eyes traveled to her child, who lay quietly in the carriage. However, the woman decided to trust her instincts, even though most logical thought went against them.

"Yes, you may enter," she said, voice holding an odd note.

Dom bowed lightly to her, stepping inside. "My thanks, madam."

The lady again nodded, intelligent gaze noting that her guest did not enter until given express permission. "Tell me, Mister Dorée," she asked, turning to her guest, wand still firmly clasped in her hand. "Why would a vampire wish entrance into my home, if only to speak with me?"

Dominic merely inclined his head as she correctly guessed his situation. He made no other movements, save to shift his hand to a pocket of his robes.

"Well, it is rather hard to explain why I am here," the vampire answered, effortlessly pulling his hand from his robes. There was a blue amulet clasped tightly within his fist. "But I believe that this," he stated, indicating the stone, "can help me explain."

The mother stared in awe at the artifact. Without even realizing, she reached out to touch it. And with that single touch, the same thing that had happened to Dom, and to countless others no doubt, happened to her.

Memories, images of happenings long since past, flew through her mind. A distant but uplifting melody filled her ears, blocking out all other sound. A pure, pristine light filled the entire room.

But within seconds it, all of it was over. And it had changed everything.

The mother stood dazed and would have sunk to the floor had Dom not caught her. Great knowledge that she hadn't possessed moments ago now filled her mind. It confused her endlessly.

Dom held her quietly for a few moments before easing the woman to her feet.

"But why here? Why bring it here?" she questioned, still partly dazed. She indicated the amulet, which still lay on Dom' palm, with a hasty gesture. "Why not bring it back to him? To Salazar… or whoever he is now?"

The vampire just looked at her. "I cannot reach him. Those of my kind are said to be evil." He sighed, anger and hurt in his expression. "They would never let one such as me near him," Dom added bitterly. His wary and somewhat jaded eyes turned to the now sleeping infant in the carriage. "Besides, the amulet is as much hers as it is his," he finished, the painful emotions draining from his face.

He moved his pale hand to the lady's bronze one, clasping it firmly. A mere second later, his hand pulled back, leaving the talisman within her hand. Dom backed away slowly and turned, heading for the door.

"It is hers," he murmured, exiting the house. "It will protect her, keep her safe." He left, closing the door with a click and was gone an instant later.

The mother stared after him for a few moments, lost in thought. Mechanically and quite unintentionally she moved to the carriage containing her tiny daughter. She studied the sleeping infant before returning to the ebbing jewel that was clutched in her hand.

"This is yours, my darling daughter," she whispered to the little girl, the amulet suddenly glowing brighter.

She sniffled, tears snaking their way down her face. A horrible and hopefully untrue prediction played in her mind.

"It will protect you, love," the mother added softly, "long after I am gone."

* * *

**_St. Ottery: Fifteen Years Later…_**

Much had changed to the house and to the family in the last fifteen years. The home, once a creamy white, was now a light, warm blue. Even the once dark foundation stones were now grayish, changed in order to match the rest. The garden was still well-cared for but now consisted of a weird variety of unnamable plants instead of the original flowers and vegetables.

And of the family itself, the lady of the household had died in a rather unfortunate and untimely accident, leaving her daughter and husband with only each other. The father had taken his wife's death rather hard, becoming distant and insular for a time. Yet, he had eventually recovered, bringing his daughter and him closer together than ever before.

And, of course, the infant girl with dreamy eyes had grown into a lovely, young woman with a mysterious air about her.

The teenager in question sat upon her windowsill, left check against the cool glass. The pale light of the waning moon glittered along her hair, casting even more silver into it than normal. A loose braid hung down her back and seemed to glow in the ethereal light. The girl exhaled, pressing a very tanned hand to the glass. The gesture was childish, innocent-like, almost as if she were reaching for the moon. She sighed again, distractedly blinking her eyes and tracing the surface with her fingertip. She snuggled within her window seat, her nighttime refuge.

She had been plagued by odd dreams as of late. Remarkably strange, weird but wonderful dreams. The one this night had been exceptionally odd. Well, more peculiar than usual. It involved two men, both of who seemed vaguely familiar. It is possible that she knew them, but the girl could not recall from where. No matter how she tried.

"Maybe from a previous life," she had lightly joked to herself.

She had not caught the name of the first man, but he was familiar nonetheless. He was an angry and haughty person, complete with an evil smile and dangerous pyrite eyes. But she had the sense that he had not always been that way. Once, there had been courage with a hint of pride instead of arrogance. And there had been camaraderie instead of jealousy.

The second man, however, she knew his name. She knew it very well. Just as she knew his dark hair and mischievous laugh. Green eyes and naughty grin.

The teenager exhaled and looked upwards, intently studying the moon as it partially disappeared between a wisp of cloud. "Salazar," she whispered to it.

Her hand traveled to her neck and the metallic necklace encircling it. She inhaled very slowly, remembering his smile.

The moon again appeared, once more casting its silvery light. The girl shook her head, fingertips caressing the jewel about her neck. It flowed and ebbed much like water in the faint moonlight.

"His name is Salazar."

* * *

AN: _The Sangre Effect_: Basically, this happens when a blood relation of a soul's current or, after they have died, most previous incarnation curses them with magic. This, coupled with the enchantments already on the athame, prevented anyone but another blood relative of Salazar from summoning him back. Basically, he was trapped in limbo until a descendent of the Slytherin line freed him.

Also, I bet that you can guess who had to summon Salazar back. Plus, to whom Dom originally wanted to give or rather return the amulet (winks and smiles)! Also, yes … the mother did foresee her own death.

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby_ and _DracoQueen_ for the beta and to Our Catholic Faith (online) for the Latin translation.

_Chapter __Six: Star Bright_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited: **

**05/31/08**


	7. Star Bright

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon. Also, there is a poem with an unknown origin and author and a reference to a movie, Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, both of which I most certainly do not own.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Six: Star Bright**

**_Number Four, Privet Drive: July 26th, 1996_**

A young man, of no more than sixteen, sat quietly on his windowsill, gazing up at the brilliant stars. A nightmare had woken him, making him flee from his bed to the window for comfort. Outside, a slight breeze rustled the deep, green leaves of the trees. A small, black cat sauntered down the sideway. In the distance, a dog barked. The young man simply ignored it all, for his attention was focused on a single object in the sky. His emerald eyes were fixed on one star, Sirius, the Dog Star.

He exhaled slowly, his breath fogging the cool glass. Light from the sky glinted across teeth as he moved his lips in a faint whisper:

"_Star light, star bright,  
First star I see tonight.  
I wish I may, I wish I might  
Have the wish I wish tonight_."

He breathed softly, deep in thought. "I wish for peace, for happiness… for this war to end and Voldemort to be defeated." He paused, eyes gleaming in the starlight. "But most of all, I wish Sirius was here. I wish that he could come back to me." He sighed heavily and turned his head, moving away from the window. His feet slipped quietly to the floor as he went back to his bed.

If the teenager had stayed but a second longer he would have undoubtedly noticed the bright flash of pure light. High above in the heavens, a single star glowed brighter for a moment, coating the sleeping land in its light. The wind stopped for an instant, as though holding its breath. The black cat froze mid-step. The barking dog was silenced.

After a rather long minute, the light quietly dimmed, returning the star to normal. The breeze again picked up, the cat continued down the sidewalk, and the dog resumed his barking.

Everything was now as it should be.

Early the following morning, the aforementioned young man, a Mr. Harry Potter, sat quietly at his rather beaten up desk. He was in a chair that was quite rickety, having once been sat on by Dudley. A thick, black book rested in his hands. Its title, Occlumency: Defending the Mind, was emblazed in gold across the cover. Numerous others laid, surprisingly enough, in neat stacks on the wooden surface of the desk. While some of the volumes were course books or part of the set Harry had received from Sirius and Remus, most were actually gifts – read appeasements – from a certain wily headmaster.

Within hours of discovering the house-elf, Harry had received a rather large package from said headmaster. Inside, there were roughly thirty different books, covering everything from Defense to Charms to Occlumency. Also inside, lying neatly on top, was a letter. The gleaming green ink of the parchment had proclaimed the old man's undying sorrow for the subterfuge and its necessity. The professor had bluntly stated that he felt Harry needed close watching "_lest you are incapacitated or harmed by a vision_."

Harry had not believed this statement for a minute. He felt that what Dumbledore truly meant, though he would never actually say it, was "Incase something happens, and you don't feel the need to tell the Order."

The headmaster had further written that the books were "_for you to gain knowledge useful in both defending yourself and for the upcoming war_." Translation: "I am trying to make you like me again."

The ever misleading letter had continued, mentioning almost everything from Sirius' death to the acknowledged return of Voldemort to the fact that he was still being watched by the Order. Yet, while the inky green script persisted for several paragraphs, it didn't actually tell Harry anything new. It was just writing, sentences put together with no real value.

After several minutes of reading what accounted to nothing more than nonsense, Harry had thrown it in the rubbish bin with the rest of the garbage. The Gryffindor had stared silently at the letter before smirking and turning to the unpacked books. The headmaster may not have realized it, but he had just given Harry an exceptionally valuable resource, though the teenager was not going to use it in the way Dumbledore had imagined.

The weeks after what Harry had dubbed the "Spies and Lies" incident, had been quite productive. At least for the aforementioned young wizard. First, he had started to create and implement a plot against everyone's favorite Dark Lord, Voldemort. While only the first stages of said plot had been instituted or even devised, its goals remained the same. Its primary objective, of course: the complete and total annihilation, destruction, and obliteration of one Mr. Tom Riddle. The first stage of this plan merely consisted of what Harry had already been doing, studying. Yet, there had been a second facet, recruiting help.

So that was exactly what Harry had done.

However, there was far more to his plan than defeating Voldemort. Secondary aims included: stopping Death Eaters, saving Muggles and Muggleborns. Also getting that idiot Fudge out of office, restitution for the wrongs committed by Dolores Umbridge, and finding a way to remove the words "_I must not tell lies_," which seemed to be permanently etched onto Harry's skin.

Luckily though, these were not the only goals. It also included bringing down at least a few pegs a certain meddlesome old coot. This part of Harry's plan, affectionately called "Operation Oldster" by its creator, was still in the development phase. But hopes were quite high that the near future would bring breakthroughs. The director of this operation and overall second-in-command, Miss Hermione Granger, expressed great optimism for the plan's potential. Mr. Bill Weasley, her direct underling, concurred.

The third and fourth chairs, Mr.'s Fredrick and George Weasley, were currently working on the final aspect. The project codename "Gred and Forge's Great Adventure" entailed the creation and testing of new gadgets, gizmos, and weapons that were to be used in the fight against Voldemort. Miss Ginerva Weasley, the final link in the command chain, acted as their assistant – read tester. She was also department head for recruitment.

Potential recruits included, but were not exclusive to Luna Lovegood and Remus Lupin, who was currently expressing some doubt about the aforementioned coot. Of course, there were also Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, and Athena Avis, a close, personal friend of Miss Weasley. Not to mention Lee Jordan, Charles Weasley, and Ronald Weasley--

'Well, that is if he stops being such an insufferable git!' Harry thought vehemently.

He huffed and, looking up from his book, rolled his green eyes dramatically. He exhaled, grinding his teeth together and wishing for the thousandth time that he knew what Ron's problem was. Maybe the brains from the Ministry really were making him barmy, just as George, or was it Fred, had suggested.

Earlier in the week, Harry had received a much overdue letter from Ron. But instead of bringing happiness or some derivative of joy, as letters from friends are wont to do, it only made the teenager feel like hitting his head repeatedly with a blunt object. His eyes glazed over at the memory, just remembering the letter and his reaction to it.

**(Flashback)**

Filled with excitement, Harry unrolled the letter he had just got from Ron, shooing Pig over to Hedwig's water dish. He hastily glanced to the top off it, noticing that it didn't seem to have a header or addressee at all.

_I'm you-know-where_…

And Harry paused and rolled his eyes after reading this. 'Subtle, Ron,' he thought, 'real subtle.'

…_And have been having a pretty good time. All of the old crowd has been coming and going. It's been fun watching them, but I have no idea what's going on. Odd, but it's kind of lonely here. Ginny's been spending a lot of time with Fred and George, and she's been writing a lot of letters. I mean there's only so much that she could write to Dean. Then, Fred and George have been gone most of the time, and when they are here they're always with Ginny. You don't think that she's helping them with pranks or anything, do you?_

_Hermione and Bill have been spending a lot of time together, too. Supposedly on a research project. But they won't tell me what it's about. Practically, every time I see them their heads are stuck together, and they're whispering quietly. When they notice that I'm there, they suddenly stop what they are saying. You don't reckon that something is going on between them? What if she fancies him? I don't…_

The letter continued on in vain for several paragraphs before finally returning to the original topic.

…_Other than that my summer has been great. As I said, we've been you-know-where the entire summer. Every __**true**__ member of our family is here_…

Harry raised an eyebrow at this, knowing that Percy was not currently at Grimmauld Place.

… _The only bad parts are that I can't play Quidditch and I can't get away from Fred and George – the rare times that they are here and not off somewhere with Ginny. They keep pranking me! I have been on CONSTANT VILAGENCE, but they still keep getting me every time. It's like they're mind-readers or something. They always know what I'm about to do, and they're always prepared for it!_…

The letter again rambled for a time, only skimming through.

…_Well, I have to go. Mum just yelled for me._

_Your best mate,  
**Ron**_

Harry sat quietly for a moment, deep in thought over what he had just read. 'Well, it is certainly nice to know that Ron has remembered me.' He rolled his eyes again at the thought. 'But excluding the very last bit, he didn't even acknowledge that I exist.' The Gryffindor sniffed, tossing the letter down in disgust. 'I didn't even get a '_Dear Harry_' in the beginning. It's like I have been reduced from best mate to person Ron vents all his frustrations to. Simply smashing!' he added sarcastically, his arms folding across his chest

Harry continued to sit in silence for several minutes before reaching down to pick up the letter. His gaze traveled to a particular sentence, reading it over again.

"Yes, Ron," he whispered more to himself than to anyone else, a slight grimace on his face. "I do think that Hermione fancies Bill. She has a very good reason to."

**(End of Flashback)**

An abrupt tapping on the window brought Harry out of his musings. A large, dignified looking owl was at the window.

The teenager smoothly slid his wobbly chair back, approaching the bird. Within seconds, the owl was inside, and Harry was untying its burden. The Gryffindor brought the tawny bird over to Hedwig's cage for water, receiving a small hoot of thanks for his efforts. His own snowy owl opened a sleepy amber eye, gazing at the newcomer.

A few short moments later, the window was again closed, the tawny owl was gone, and Hedwig was again sleeping. Harry stood next to his desk chair, a rather weighty envelope resting in his hands. He glanced absentmindedly at the label before suddenly doing a double-take, and he exhaled noisily in a rush of air. His knees wobbled, forcing him to quickly reach for his chair in order to support his weight. Harry fidgeted, a small trickle of sweat creep across his brow.

It was his OWL results.

Harry gazed silently at the envelope clutched in trembling hands, turning it over with a shake of his head. Inside, there was a letter. A single, measly letter that could change the rest of his life. He inhaled through his mouth, slowly gliding his fingers across the parchment. He stood completely still, his eyes slightly glazed, as though coming to a decision. He firmly pressed his lips together and harshly breathed out. The teenager suddenly nodded his head and ran his hand through his dark hair. He finally and rather shakily peeled away the seal, opening the envelope.

_**HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**  
Headmaster: __**ALBUS DUMBLEDORE**  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_Enclosed are your OWL scores from the 1995-1996 school term. Given the nature of events from the previous term, certain scores were adjusted. _

_Also enclosed is a form listing the possible sixth year class choices available for you. This list includes both Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests (NEWT) and Ordinary Wizarding Levels (OWL) courses. All students are required to take at least five NEWT or OWL courses. Only those that scored an OWL (an Acceptable or higher) in a particular course are eligible for the NEWT class. In addition, students must meet the course requirements set by the professor. OWL courses are available to all, regardless of actual OWL score._

_It should be noted that NEWT classes are more difficult and that students enrolled in said courses are required to take the NEWT after completion. OWL classes are simply a continuation of learning from previous years, and as such, they are suitable for all students, regardless of skill in the particular subject. Students in these courses are not required to take the NEWT but do have the option. However, OWL classes do not cover all of the material necessary for the NEWT, so additional study is required._

_On a personal note, I am pleased by your scores and fully plan to assist you on your career path of choice. I foresee few problems._

_Additionally, it should be noted that your Quidditch ban has been lifted. Also, due to the fact that you have been on the team for five years, you are a contender for captain. Congratulations._

_Yours sincerely,  
**Minerva McGonagall**__,  
Deputy Headmistress  
Head of Gryffindor House _

_**ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVELS**  
Head Examiner: __**Griselda Marchbanks**  
(Order of Merlin, Second Class, Grand Sorc., International Confed. of Wizards, Wizengamot Council, Wizarding Education Board)_

_Grades for both practical and written examinations are listed with the overall score. However, only the overall grade determines the number of Ordinary Wizarding Levels (OWLs). A grade of Acceptable (A) or Exceeds Expectations (E) is awarded one OWL. A score of Outstanding (O) is awarded two OWLs. Poor (P), Dreadful (D), and Terrible (T) are failing grades, and as such, they are worth zero OWLs._

**_Astronomy_**_  
**Practical:**__ Acceptable  
**Written: **__Exceeds Expectations  
**Overall: **__Exceeds Expectations_

**_Care of Magical Creatures_**_  
**Practical:**__ Outstanding  
**Written: **__Exceeds Expectations  
**Overall: **__Outstanding_

**_Charms_**  
_**Practical:**__ Exceeds Expectations  
**Written: **__Exceeds Expectations  
**Overall: **__Exceeds Expectations_

**_Defense Against the Dark Arts_**_  
**Practical:**__ Outstanding  
**Written: **__Outstanding  
**Overall: **__Outstanding_

**_Divination_**_  
**Practical:**__ Outstanding  
**Written: **__Exceeds Expectations  
**Overall: **__Outstanding_

**_Herbology_**_  
**Practical:**__ Exceeds Expectations  
**Written: **__Exceeds Expectations  
**Overall: **__Exceeds Expectations_

**_History of Magic_**_  
**Practical:**__ N/A  
**Written: **__Acceptable  
**Overall: **__Acceptable_

**_Potions_**  
_**Practical:**__ Exceeds Expectations  
**Written: **__Outstanding  
**Overall: **__Outstanding_

**_Transfiguration_**_  
**Practical:**__ Exceeds Expectations  
**Written: **__Exceeds Expectations  
**Overall: **__Exceeds Expectations_

**_Total Number of Acceptables_**_  
**Practical:**__ 1  
**Written: **__1  
**Overall: **__1_

**_Total Number of Exceeds Expectations_**  
_**Practical:**__ 4  
**Written: **__6  
**Overall: **__4_

**_Total Number of Outstandings_**  
_**Practical:**__ 3  
**Written: **__2  
**Overall: **__4_

**_Total Number of OWLS_**  
_**Overall: **__13_

**_Courses Available_**_:  
**OWL**__:_ _Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Divination, Herbology, History of Magic, Potions, Transfiguration  
**NEWT**__: __Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Divination, Herbology, History of Magic, Potions, Transfiguration_

_Congratulations Mr. Potter,_

_We at WEB, the Wizarding Education Board, are delighted by your excellent scores, Mr. Potter. Your Defense Against the Dark Arts grade, in both practical and theoretical, is the highest we have ever seen. Further, not only did you pass all of your OWLs, but all of your regular courses are available to you for both OWL and NEWT._

_On the enclosed form please select the courses that you wish to take._

_On a personal note, I am greatly looking forward to your NEWT testing. I truly hope that I will once more be able to examine you for the Defense practical. Your Patronus is the finest I have seen in all my days._

_Sincerely,  
**Claudius Tofty**  
Assistant Examiner_

To say that Harry was merely shocked by his exam grades would be the underestimation of the century. It was like stating that a monsoon was rainy and wet or that a dragon was merely a big lizard with wings. Understatements of epic proportions. The difference between surprise and Harry's current emotional state was comparable to the disparity between a lit candle and the sun in terms of heat and light.

Surprise did not even come close to what Harry was currently experiencing.

He was seated quite dazedly upon the floor, having missed his chair when he unceremoniously sank just after reading his grades. Green eyes glittered in a strange light, a bemused grin upon his clearly shocked face. He chuckled to himself occasionally, but the action had a slightly hysterical tone to it.

And a single thought pervaded his very astonished mind. 'Wait until Hermione hears about this!'

* * *

AN: There is a very important reason why Harry scored as well as he did, particularly in Divination. Oh, and the current age of the Weasley siblings are as follows: Bill: 26, Charlie: 24, Percy: 20, Fred and George: 18, Ron: 16, and Ginny: 15.

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby_ and _DracoQueen_ for the beta.

_Chapter Seven: We're off to See the Wizard_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**05/31/08**


	8. We're Off to See the Wizard

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon. Oh, the title is a reference to The Wizard of Oz, which I most certainly do not own.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Seven: We're off to See the Wizard**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, The Grounds: July 27th, 1996_**

Eyes of pure silver stared at the lofty structure in the distance. The warming summer sunlight glinted off the tall towers, blinding any who looked upon them. The azure sky was cloudless and perfect, creating a color contrast with the cool, dark stone of the castle. The enormous, ornate front doors were open, preventing viewers from seeing the intricate crest carved upon them.

Even one thousand years after its founding, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was still an impressive sight.

A man with brown hair stood quite a distance away, studying the castle appraisingly. His gaze was focused on the structure to the apparent exclusion of everything else. The man was so intent on his scrutiny of the castle that he failed to notice the incredibly large figure of the groundskeeper sauntering about the lake, which glittered quite invitingly in the morning light. A cooling breeze rustled both the grass and the man's deep-blue robes, the silken cloth so dark as to almost be black. The wind tugged at the man's ponytail, teasing and attempting to free the dark locks. However, the man barely noted any of it. He simply stood, one hand fingering a necklace, as he tranquilly stared at the castle.

Yet, for all his calm and studying outward appearance, inside Dominic was a nervous wreck. 'How am I ever going to pull this off?' he thought sarcastically to himself. 'Am I just supposed to march in there and hope that the headmaster will just up and hire me?' he sardonically added. 'I am sure that reportedly evil creatures become the new Defense professor everyday.'

The man rolled his jaded and wary eyes at the thought. 'Oh, maybe he will not notice that I am a **vampire**.' Dom smirked at the mental image. 'Humph! And maybe he believes all that hogwash about vampires being destroyed by sunlight.' His gaze traveled upwards to the sun, which was merrily shining down upon him.

'I have no idea where these people get their ideas about my kind,' Dom thought exasperatedly. 'Honestly, being unable to walk in sunlight? Sleeping in coffins? Hanging about in cemeteries? Where in the world did they come up with this drivel?' he mused rhetorically. 'Well, probably from that Muggle book about Alucard. I cannot believe the author actually believed him. Everyone knows that he was out of his gourd, and all he ever said was rubbish. Well, except for the drinking blood part. And the thing about mirrors.' Dom shrugged whimsically, still in thought. 'If only--'

His musings suddenly stopped as his senses registered an approaching presence. His attention shifted and focused on the lumbering half-giant, who was heading directly towards him.

"'Ello," the enormous gamekeeper stated brightly, belying the suspicion in on his bearded face. "Yeh have business at the castle?" he inquired.

A warm smile lit Dom's face. Obviously, he had been standing there long enough to attract the attention of the castles denizens.

"Hello," he warmly greeted the towering Hagrid, gazing upwards at him. "Ah, yes I do." The vampire paused, quickly thinking. "I am here to interview--"

At this comment, Hagrid's black eyes widened. "Would that be fer the Defense job?" The giant continued without pause, not giving Dom time to answer. "Yeh must be Dominic Boyd!" he finished excitedly. A big, whiskery smile spread across his bearded face.

It would hardly do for the vampire to give his real name, especially considering that it was well-known in certain circles. Further, few would connect the rather young and charming Defense Master Dominic Boyd with the somewhat famous Artifact Crafter, Historian, and Necromancy practicing vampire Dominic de Dorée, even if the two shared a similar physical appearance. And most certainly, no one would ever connect the two with his other past identities either.

Fortunately, there were several very obscure, though not so obscure for a millennia and a half old vampire, nearly forgotten spells that could prevent him from ever being identified. Plus, Dom didn't even have to change his appearance to use them either. The spells simply prevented the connection between his various identities from ever being made unless he divulged the secret and only then to those he personally told. All in all, the spells were very much like a personalized version of the _Fidelius_ charm, and they were a trick that he had employed countless times during his life as he shifted through his various personas.

"Yes," Dom answered to his alias, smiling pleasantly. His eyes sparkled with mirth at the half-giant's instant change in demeanor. "Please call me, Dom." His brain racing to come up with a believable story for staring at the castle, he stated, "I was merely trying to… calm my nerves," he supplied smoothly, choosing to give a version of the truth.

Hagrid, clearly buying the story, nodded his head in understanding. "Well, good luck wit' that." The half-giant, still beaming, continued on his way.

And Dominic breathed a slight sigh of relief as he watched Hagrid lumber away. 'Maybe this will not be so hard.' His spidery fingers, which were fingering a chain about his neck, clenched slightly. 'Still, I better pray that my spellcasting works.' His hand traveled to the small, metallic disc hanging from the chain. He traced the etched runes for hiding, secrecy, and invisibility.

The vampire suddenly straightened, tossing his hair back. 'But I have to do this. I have to make amends. I have to help.' With a final caress of his necklace, Dom neatly tucked it back within his blue robes. He felt a gentle jolt of power, assuring him that his necklace was safe from all prying eyes.

The man steeled his resolve. And he stepped easily, walking towards the front entrance, head held high. Just as he came to the enormous but open doors, his gaze scanned the looping border of the Hogwarts' Crest. Hidden within, there was text so tiny as to be invisible to all but those with magical sight:

"_Enter those for which yearn  
Knowledge, wisdom, who seek to learn.  
But heed this warning, friend and guest,  
For those who bring harm with their quest:  
Your deeds will be sent back, three times three.  
As we will it, so mote it be_."

Dom smiled at the message, which to him was a clear invitation. He effortlessly glided into the Entrance Hall, his dragonhide boots surprisingly making no sound.

'I can do this. I will do this,' he thought firmly, 'for Salazar.'

* * *

**_Hogwarts, Stairway Outside of the Headmaster's Office: The Same Day_**

Dominic breathed a heavy sigh of relief as he made his way down the stone steps. His silvery eyes were glinting in delight from not only the challenge of being hired but also the ordeal of hoodwinking one of the most cunning humans alive. Perhaps to ever live.

While undoubtedly it had been one of the most nerve wracking experiences in his entire life, all fifteen hundred years of it, it had also been one of the most fulfilling. Trying to convince the headmaster to hire him was trial enough, but doing so without revealing that he was a Dark creature and a Necromancer to boot was beyond difficult. That man was just too damn observant for his own good. Dumbledore knew far too many tricks and riddles with which to ensnare people. Fortunately, as the old saying goes, Dom hadn't been born yesterday, so he knew quite a few tricks himself.

The vampire was still thanking his lucky star, which coincidentally was Sirius, that he had had the forethought to plan this little venture out earlier, say about a decade earlier. He had known without a doubt that one day he would have to seek out Salazar in his present day form, but this had led to several problems popping up.

How exactly was he supposed to do this? Salazar was protected by far more than blood warding.

So after much thought Dom had devised a very elaborate but at the same time, incredibly simple plan. Where was the one place children were guaranteed to go? School. And what magical school would Salazar attend? Hogwarts. Lastly, which was the only available position? The Defense job.

Regardless, to be hired Dom would need references and a school history as he could hardly submit his true qualifications, for some peculiar reason most wizards just did not seem overly fond of vampires. Of course, he couldn't submit the credentials of his most recent identity either, mostly due to the fact that he was supposed to be dead. So Dom had done exactly what he usually did in similar situations, he had created an alternate persona. In this case, he was Dominic Boyd, a brilliant yet somewhat cheeky man, who had been taught by his own mother and who had traveled the globe with her on her quest for the ever allusive Crumple-horned Snorkak. However, his life story didn't end there as the vampire had further added that after his mother's unfortunate death at the talons of an enraged manticore he had gone on to take both his OWLs and his NEWTs.

Then had come the hardest part of Dom's subterfuge, actually being hired by that barmy, old codger of a headmaster. Yet, there was one thing in his favor. Even with all of his Legilimency training, the headmaster would not be able to penetrate the vampire's mind. Several centuries of Occlumency guaranteed that his secrets would be safe from that particular avenue of attack and his most recent profession had further insured that he could well keep a secret.

The interview had started normally enough, just filling in background that he had created for himself. Dom had stated that he had been home-schooled, which was actually quite true since magical schools hadn't yet existed in England when he was born. He had gone on to say that he had attended a magical university, which also quite true; he had attended several universities over the centuries.

Regardless, while the headmaster had on the surface seemed normal, there was a distinct underlying tone of distrust. On several occasions, the vampire had been forced to use his Occlumency skills to push forth false memories of the life of Dominic Boyd. The ever-twinkling eyes of the professor had repeatedly tried to see into his thoughts. But he had only succeeded in seeing his fabricated recollections. Dumbledore had not even been aware of the underlying and quite well protected thoughts.

But then, the professor had as the Americans would say dropped a bombshell.

**(Flashback)**

Dumbledore, his eyes glinting, looked at Dom and stated, "Well, everything seems to be in order, Mr. Boyd." He paused oddly, giving a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "There is only one final part of this interview. You need to try on the Sorting Hat."

Dom almost panicked the instant he heard the last part. How, by all that was good, was he supposed to keep his secret from the mindreading hat? Occluding from a human was one thing, but protecting his mind from an object that was specifically designed to delve into minds was quite another.

"Excuse me?" he asked the headmaster, vying for time to reinforce his shielding. "I believe that I might have misheard you." Deep inside, he was praying that his Occlumency skills would save him.

"The final part of the interview is to try on the Sorting Hat. In the past few years, we have had a few… er… problems with our Defense professors," Dumbledore responded, his odd expression giving the vampire a momentary shiver. "Some even think that the position is cursed." The headmaster's bemused smile belied the hard glint in his eyes, and he quietly steepled his fingers. "The easiest way to ensure that the candidates will not have any problems is to let them talk with the Sorting Hat."

He moved, rather nimbly for one his age, from his desk to the shelf housing the Hat. Gently, he removed the patched and frayed object, gliding over to the vampire's chair. He held the Hat over Dom's head before looking to him for permission. The applicant smiled faintly and nodded, all the while occluding the depths of his mind.

Suddenly, the frayed Hat was placed on his head, dropping to cover his eyes. "_Well, you are an interesting one aren't you_?" a voice whispered inside of his head.

Dom forcefully pushed artificial images and memories to the fore front of his thoughts, trying desperately to deceive the Hat. He could feel it shift through, examining his counterfeit persona closely. However, it did not move to the guarded portion of his mind.

A sudden and quite odd thought occurred to Dom in that moment. It was ridiculous risky and would undoubtedly cause his plans to die an early death, but the potential benefits… oh, yes… the potential benefits definitely outweigh any risks.

So instead of reinforcing his mental shielding, he reached out, searching for the Hat's consciousness. A foreign wave of thoughts and feelings entered his psyche, and the vampire had gasped involuntarily.

The Hat knew about Salazar and Siobhan returning! But more importantly,it knew that the others were back as well!

Nonetheless, that was not the only knowledge the Hat possessed. It knew about the upcoming conflict. It knew about the present discord. It knew about the past and what had really occurred within the confines of the castle. It knew the **truth**.

"_You know about Salazar and Godric_!" Dom mentally and very excitedly whispered.

The Hat, clearly dazed from having someone sift through its own thoughts, had responded, "_Yes. How is it you know about this_?"

Taking an enormously large gamble, the vampire opened his shields entirely, allowing the Hat inside.

After several moments of shifting through Dom's true memories, the Hat mentally spoken. "_This is very unexpected! You are trying to help them_." It paused for a moment, considering what it had just learned. "_Yes, yes. I understand now. The castle and I shall help you in your quest_."

Dom breathed a sigh of relief, one which he hadn't even known he had been holding, but the odd statement quickly caught his attention. "_The castle? It is sentient? I thought… but I could not be sure without checking, and that would leave me vulnerable if it decided I was a threat_."

"_Ah, yes. __**She**__ – the castle – is sentient, but she shall not harm you. I actually think that she likes you. She said that you have a pure soul and your magic has a nice feel to it._"

Dom's eyebrows rose at this statement, not that anyone could see with the Hat pulled down over his eyes.

The Sorting Hat merely chuckled, clearly finding the entire situation rather funny.

"_What about the--_"

"_Do not worry,_" it interrupted before Dom could even completely voice his concern. "_I will not tell Headmaster Dumbledore the truth of your origins nor why you are here. Your secrets are safe with me_."

"_Thank you_," the vampire responded with complete honesty, breathing easy.

"_Anytime, and by this, I do mean anytime_." The Hat hesitated, deep in thought. "_On the third floor corridor, the left hand side, there is a portrait of the Necromancer La Muerte. Tell her that I sent you, and she will allow you entrance to the room. Go there if you have any problems or if you just wish to speak with me. I am able to communicate with any who are in that room_."

"_Alright_," Dom answered and smiled. "_Again, thank you for everything_." He lifted his hand slowly to his head. "_It has been a pleasure to speak with you._"

The Sorting Hat mentally grinned. "_A pleasure for me as well. Contact me anytime_."

"_I will_," Dom responded in farewell, and he softly removed it from his head. He blinked his semi-blinded eyes several times, reacquainting them with the light from the room.

Professor Dumbledore, who was now standing in front of Dom, smoothly took the Hat from him. "Well, what do you think?" the old man inquired, clearly asking the Sorting Hat and not the other person in the room.

An opening in the form of a mouth appeared on the Hat, just above the brim. "He is a good one, Headmaster," it replied, smirking happily, an extraordinary feat since it had no mouth or lips.

Albus Dumbledore gave a true grin, his customary twinkle going full force. "Congratulations, Mr… or should I say, Professor Boyd. You are hired."

* * *

**_Unknown: July 28th, 1996_**

Shadows danced in the candlelight as a women sat quietly in chair, facing a lit fireplace. Her dark eyes starred at the flickering flames as salty tears clung to her thick eyelashes. Deep and treacherous thoughts stormed through her mind.

She was back, but everything had changed. All of it was different: the followers, their aims, the very goals of **the ****cause**. Even she had changed. But then, one could hardly live in purgatory for as long as she had without emerging as someone else, as some**thing** else.

The woman forcefully shook her head, attempting to dispel such thoughts. Her incredibly dark hair swirled about her head as one hand traveled immediately towards her abdomen.

'Yes,' she mused, 'things are definitely changing. But if for good or ill, I do not know.' She exhaled and fidgeted faintly. 'Nothing is as it was. Not even the creed that we follow.'

A strange feeling slowly arose within her, churning her stomach and causing her fingers to clench painfully. Bile rose within her throat, nearly gagging her with its intensity. She could feel her mind being filled with the emotion, doubt mixed with dread. She carefully pushed the feeling down, immersing her mind in protection. With such powerful Legilimens around, it would not do to be caught with such traitorous thoughts.

Sure, she believed in the cause, suffered with the cause, lived and possibly would one day die with the cause. But still, there was a lingering doubt. And every day it grew. It twisted and pounded deep inside her, bringing with it some of the worst horrors imaginable.

Guiltandfear.

Yet, she clung to the cause, following it with a fanatical gleam in her dark orb-like eyes. But was any of it real? Any of it at all? Had it ever been?

What if she didn't really believe in the cause? What if it was all a lie? What if it was really the man that she believed in, that she followed? That she loved? What if it was all for and about him? What if all of the toil, the hardship, all the years of her life she had spent, wasted away were about him?

The one man she had ever really cared for or believed in, not even her husband had that distinction. Not even he, who she had been forced to marry out of obligation to her family, had ever really touched her heart. Only one ever had, but maybe, even now there would be another.

The woman exhaled heavily, her dark gaze upon the merry and mocking flames. She titled her head towards the window, gazing at the stars. Her lips quirked at the sight of one of the few constants in her life. Even when she was in purgatory, she had still seen them. They had always been there, never leaving her, no matter the reason. They were constant; the one thing she could depend upon.

She rubbed a now trembling hand across her abdomen. And her wedding band, the symbol of her loveless marriage, glittered in the faint firelight. She shook her head in sadness, turning away from the window and back to the flames, hoping to lose herself within them.

A single thought was now prominent in her guarded mind, 'Everything has changed, and for the life of me, I do not know what to do?'

* * *

**_Ireland, Caelum Serpens (Slytherin Manor), The Grounds: July, 946 A.D._**__

A soft breeze blew through the countryside, rustling the summer meadow. Thousands of stars twinkled brightly in velvety sky. Two figures lay, side by side, upon the sweet grasses. One, the clear elder of the two, had eyes that were an interesting but odd mix of argent and blue as though someone had mixed silver with sapphires. The other, the far younger of the pair, was just a child. He was barely even ten summers old. Yet, his eyes were the most vibrant and enchanting green imaginable and were fixed on the stars overhead. There was a soft smile on his lips.

"Happy birthday, little brother," the elder whispered, glancing at the boy. His face shone in the faint starlight, a grin pulling at his lips. "I hope that you had a wonderful day." The slight breeze tugged at his dark hair.

The child sighed contentedly, turning to his companion. "Yes, I did. Thank you, Solaris, for everything." He beamed at his brother, but there was a slightly wistful look upon his face. "I just wish that they were here now… for this." He lifted a hand from the grass and gestured towards his brother and then the stars.

Solaris sighed. "I do also." He hesitated somewhat. "I know that it has been hard with mother and father gone, but I also know…" He again paused, thinking. "I don't think… no, I know that I would not have made it without you, Sal. Not with them gone as well." He gazed at his little brother, his eyes shining with unspoken words.

"I wouldn't have made it without you either, Soli," Salazar answered, a trembling hand traveling to his brother's arm. His fingers tightened firmly.

Solaris moved his arm and took Sal's hand, squeezing back. The two lay in silence for several moments.

Finally, the boy sighed heavily. He cast about his mind for a more cheerful topic, trying to lift the melancholy mood that had settled around them. A slight smile alit his thin lips.

"I have decided what I want to do when I'm an adult." He glanced at his brother, noting an intrigued expression. "I want to start a school and be a professor there," Sal stated proudly.

His brother intently studied him for a moment, looking for any sigh of mischief. "Really, and what are you going to call this great school?" Solaris teased, his silvery blue eyes glittering.

"Well…" Salazar hesitated. "I haven't quite gotten a name yet," he conceded in defeat.

"Hm, that is a problem," Solaris said knowingly. He considered for a few seconds before suddenly grinning. "I know the perfect name, but before I tell, you have to promise me something"

"Alright, what must I promise you?" the boy questioned, tilting his head to look directly at Solaris' face.

His brother winked. "You must promise that I can help you with your school." He wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulder.

Salazar snickered. "I was going to ask you anyway. I figured that any great wizarding school would have to have someone like you." He smirked wickedly, his green eyes glinting. "You know an example to the children… to show them what not to be when they grow up," he mocked, a naughty expression on his face.

Solaris looked at his little brother with a bemused expression before laughing out loud. And he poked his sibling lightly in the ribs, causing him to squirm and giggle.

"That is only too true, but at least, I will be a damn good example. And," he stated with mock disdain, "I have you know, that as far examples go, I have not been a bad one. You turned out perfectly fine, after all. Only a bit daft." He pretended to sneer.

Salazar grinned in return. "Maybe," he admitted, "or maybe not. We've yet to see." He nudged his brother with one hand. "So what's the name?"

Solaris beamed and pressed a kiss to his brother's forehead, smoothing back his dark hair. "Hogwarts."

* * *

**_Hogwarts, Slytherin Family Chambers: Mid Autumn, 961 A.D._**

Pure moonlight streamed in through the window, shining upon to sleeping figures within a bed, a husband and wife. The man moved slightly and mumbled from within the confines of a dream. Unexpectedly, he bolted upright, promptly awakening from his sleep. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief as his alert eyes took in the familiar surroundings. Next to him, his wife began to stir, as though brought to consciousness by the sudden movement in the bed.

A bronzed hand lifted from the blankets, traveling to the man's face. "What's wrong?" her smooth, feminine voice inquired.

The now trembling man turned to the person lying beside him. "I have just had the most peculiar dream, my love." His gaze sought that of his wife, and he shuddered once more.

"Really? Whatever was it about, Sal?" she inquired softly, consciousness returning fully to her tired face. Siobhan moved to sit upright, but her growing and very pregnant belly impeded her actions, forcing her husband to assist her.

After finally situating his wife, Salazar replied, deep in thought, "A boy." He corrected himself, "A wizard." He hesitated unsure of how to continue. "He was… planning, plotting against some evil." He again paused, his eyes clouded over. "There was something else as well. It was odd. I felt as though I knew him, but I had never seen him before in my life." He sighed heavily, blowing black hair from his face. "He just seemed so familiar." He laughed hollowly with very little mirth. "I even seemed to know his name."

"Hmm, that is odd, beloved." She studied him silently for a moment, her luminous eyes glowing in the darkness. Absentmindedly, her tanned fingers began to rub circles upon her belly, and she unexpectedly nudged him with her hand. "Wait, you said that you knew his name?"

"Yes," Salazar replied quietly, green eyes gleaming at his wife. "His name was Harry."

* * *

_Caelum Serpens: _Serpent Heaven

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby_ and _DracoQueen_ for the beta and to Our Catholic Faith (online) for the Latin translation.

_Chapter Eight: Through the Looking Glass, Part One_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**05/31/08**


	9. Through the Looking Glass, Part One

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon. Oh, the title is a reference to a book, which I most certainly do not own.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

_It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you._

- Unknown

**  
Chapter Eight: Through the Looking Glass, Part One**

**_Hogsmeade Wizarding Village, Home of Amia Hawthorne: Late Autumn, 962 A.D._**

The warming, winter sun shown through a windowpane and cast light upon a wane, pale body. Tear tracks lined what, under normal circumstances, would be a beautiful if aged face. A woman trembled from excruciating pain. She attempted to cry out in agony, but her voice failed her. Amia Hawthorne rested safe and secure within her bed, still wasting away due to some nameless ailment. She laid there in an apparent daze, her eyes completely glazed over. However, deep inside, her mind was racing, searching for an answer.

'Why is this happening to me?' she thought frantically, pleading to the Maker for an answer. 'Why?'

But try as she might. Search as she might. Wrack her brain as she might. Amia could find no reason.

One week she was fine, healthy and happy, assisting Godric with some obscure text and task. Although for the life of her, she could not quite remember what either was about. And yet, within the next fortnight, she was fighting for her very being, her very life.

'It all started after I finished that rune-work on the scroll Godric wanted,' Amia remembered haltingly, a fog obscuring her memories. 'Could it possibly be connected?' she questioned herself, limbs trembling. 'I don't really see how. The runes were supposed to be about giving life and promoting health.' Amia mentally sighed. 'That is quite the opposite of how I am now,' she bitterly mused as she felt the tingling of another onslaught.

A fresh wave of pain rolled over Amia, bursting through her thoughts. There was an inferno burning her skin, lightning shooting through her neurons, ice freezing in her veins, rumbles and quakes within her bones. She moaned, an agonizing and aching sound, praying for mercy. For death.

Unexpectedly, soothing and gentle hands touched her forehead, fighting back the flames. They moved across her skin, numbing the lightning and unthawing the frost. She could hear a soft hum, a melody that eased the tremors along her spine.

Amia sighed with release, the pain continuing to ebb away. Her vision focused after a long moment, and she stared into endless crystalline blue depths, almost white with their intensity. And a rather odd and untimely thought surfaced in her mind.

'Siobhan has the most beautiful eyes.'

The head hanging over her retreated backwards, allowing Amia to see her adopted daughter's entire profile. A small, embarrassed smile alit her worried face, as though the younger woman had actually heard the unvoiced compliment.

"Rest now, Mum," she ordered softly. "That last one has taken much of your strength." Her bronzed hands moved, caressing Amia's skin. "Do not fear anymore, for I am here. I will keep you safe," she added with in a quiet whisper, which her foster mother barely heard.

Amia, using up much of her reserves, nodded. Her lips moved faintly as she whispered, "And Helga?"

The younger woman tried her best to smile and glanced to the corner. Hidden within a chair and a mound of blankets all that could be seen of the person in question were her eyebrows and the top of her head.

"She's sleeping," Siobhan replied, now caressing her mother's graying hair. "She is very tried and very worried…" She did not complete the sentence, for there was no doubt whom Helga worried after. The blonde returned her gaze to her companion, pleading for her to rest as well.

Amia gazed into at her child for a moment, something strange passing across her expression before finally acquiescing. Slowly, she drifted off to sleep, finding the peace in dreams that she could not find in the waking world.

Siobhan sighed, gaze never leaving the ill woman as she determinately studied her. She took in Amia's increasingly emaciated body, her gnarled hands, her nearly translucent skin, and she shook her head sadly. The blonde stared, completely oblivious to the outside world, seeming as though she was trying to solve an infinitely impossible puzzle. She moved her head from one side to another, her eyes ever searching, watching for some sign. Something. **Anything**.

After several heartbeats, Siobhan shook her head, apparently ending her search. She exhaled sharply, hoping to drive the rising sense of dread out with her breath. There was something wrong here; this disease was not natural. She had felt it, although she was not sure what **it** was. It was just a sense of wrongness, of corruption and distortion. While Amia was in the throes of agony, a distorted, leaching **thing** had come forth. And when it had left, a little of Amia… her strength, her life, her soul went with it.

Siobhan's gaze flicked from the dying woman to the sleeping Helga in the corner and back. She gently moved a trembling hand to Amia's forehead.

And she whispered reverently, "I do not know what is plaguing you my friend, my mother, but I swear to you that I will find it and stop it." She paused, letting her words sink in, and blue eyes, diamond hard, practically glowed with resolve and determination. "Even if it kills me."

* * *

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Gryffindor Tower: A Day Later_**

The mirror was a pure smooth surface of silver. Untarnished, completely even, without any imperfection. In a word: flawless. And it was very much unlike the man currently staring into its mysterious depths. He was an arrogant man, haughty and cold, so caught up within his own brashness, his own self-importance that others were as nothing to him. Save one.

It had not always been that way. But time had withered away his soul, leaving a twisted husk where once there had been a noble if occasionally foolhardy man. Allowed a deep seed of resentment and jealousy to grow to sinister fruition.

His tarnished eyes gazed into glass as a firm hand placed his wand within his pocket before lifting his fingers to the smooth surface. He had to see her; he had to watch her, even though she was not his. And most likely would never be, regardless of his desires. With a few muttered words and a tap of his fingertip upon the glass, the image upon the surface shifted from a man of arrogance and golden eyes to a lady of grace and smiles. She was exquisite, beauty incarnate at least to him and her husband. He just loved to watch her walk, see her gold-silver hair swish behind her and bronzed skin shine in the morning light.

However, at the same time, he hated her. He loathed her with every fiber of himself. She had ruined everything. She had destroyed his family, taken his brother away from him. She had disrupted their perfect lives by simply being there.

The man's eyes narrowed as he watched her. She was perched within a chair near a table filled to the brim with books. In the background, rows upon rows of bookshelves were visible. Obviously, she was in some sort of library as her blue eyes were currently focused on a book, which was nestled within her tiny hands.

"Siobhan?" A smooth voice with a Celtic accent could be heard in the background. "Is that you, love?" A dark-haired man dressed in wizarding robes suddenly entered the image, grinning as he saw his wife.

"Er…" Siobhan glanced up and smiled as she noticed him approaching. "Oh, hello, Salazar. Are you just now getting out of class?" she inquired with a note of concern.

"Yes," Sal replied, continuing to move toward his wife. "But don't worry; nothing bad happened. Elgin simply kept me afterwards to ask a few questions."

The blonde again grinned at the mention of her husband's favorite pupil. Her smile widened as he finally reached her, bending down to give a quick, or not so quick, kiss of greeting.

And in a distant tower, a man turned away from the image, not wanting to see the affection. He furiously gnashed his teeth together. How it pained him to see the two of them together. Siobhan should have been his! And Salazar… well, Salazar should have never married her. Sal should have never betrayed him.

Haughtily, the treacherous man turned back to the glass, face mere inches from the surface.

"So where is Rowena? After all, she is usually the one I see you with as of late," Sal asked curiously, taking a seat.

"Well, Quinn has gone into overly dramatic mode, what with discovering she is to have twins and all." Siobhan rolled her eyes and shook her head with mock theatrics. "He's all but forcing her to stay in bed at all times. He honestly thinks that if she as much lifts a heavy book, she'll injure the babies."

Sal snickered at the mention of the overly protective Potions master. "He is just asking for it, isn't he?" he mock-questioned. "She is going to use your method of persuasion. I can imagine Row just up and hexing him one of these days." He frowned after a second. "Hopefully, she won't use the Stinging hex. That one hurts quite badly when applied to certain body parts."

The blonde merely grinned knowingly. "The chances of that happening are increasing with every passing moment." She chuckled darkly, lips twisting into a smirk that mimicked her mate's. "Helga and I have a wager over when it will happen." At the look of surprise on Sal's face, she went on, "She says it will be sometime next week, but I except it will happen any day now."

He laughed, throwing his hands up in pretend disgust. "Honestly," the man muttered to himself, rolling his eyes. "Well, not to get off topic or anything." Siobhan's eyebrows rose at the comment, but he carried on as if he hadn't noticed. "But what exactly are you researching?" Salazar inquired, indicating the various books strewn about. "It's not that inscription from the amulet again, is it, love?"

"No, not the inscription. Rowena and I have seemed to reach an impasse as far as that is concerned." Siobhan sighed rather dramatically and flicked her fingers derisively. "We will probably be working on that until the end of the century." She snorted before quickly becoming serious again. "This is for… well…" She paused to inhale, clearly vying for time to collect her thoughts. "Well, I discovered the oddest thing the other day when I was sitting with Amia." Siobhan eyebrows knit together with a worried frown, and she chewed on her lip. "I believe that she isn't truly ill… well, she is ill but not with a disease. Rather she is under some kind of curse--"

"A curse indeed," the man watching them whispered to himself, smirking darkly. "My curse."

He again lifted his hand to the glass. 'I think I have seen enough of this for the moment. Now to view the rest of the castle.'

With a wave of his hand and a few words, the image began to shift, showing other happenings within Hogwarts.

'Hmm,' the man thought after a few moments, 'Rowena is not bed but actually hiding out in one of the unused classrooms.' He flicked his fingers, the picture once more changing. 'And her unsuspecting husband is down in the dungeons, tutoring several of the third-years.' With a few more hand-waves, the man had seen most of the inside of the castle. 'As for the grounds.'

The mirror-image shifted to the outside, showing the trail from Hogsmeade to the Entrance Hall. Yet, just before another hand gesture the man hesitated, spying someone coming up the pathway toward the school. He idly tapped his chin with his forefinger before making the image zoom in and travel to the side.

"It can't be." In his shock, the man actually spoke out loud. "Faolan…"

He stared, completely dumbstruck, at the figure who was quickly approaching Hogwarts. A youthful but tired looking adult with amber hair and a noticeable limp.

"But I haven't seen him since before we started the school. Why would he show up now, just when my plans are starting to pan out?" His face narrowed in suspicion as something tugged within his memories. "Something is not right." He concentrated, searching his memory.

After several moments of futile searching, the man reached for his wand and raised it to his temple. "_Commemini Faolan_," he commanded.

A memory of a dimly lit pub and a magical dagger filled his mind. The man studied the recollection carefully, searching each of the visible faces. Slowly, his attention traveled to the darkened corners and the molten eyes gleaming within the shadows.

Suddenly, his face slackened in surprise. "NO!" the man all but screamed. "No, not here, not now! He was there; what if he knows?"

A thousand thoughts were racing through his mind, each one more terrible than the last. His breath hitched.

"That **thing** is going to ruin it all!" He squeezed his hands into trembling fist. After a few terror filled moments, the man finally screamed once more. "Oh, get a grip, Godric!" he berated himself. "Just calm down and think!"

He shook his head, forcefully dispelling the panic. With several quick breaths, he finally began to calm. Godric again lifted his eyes to the image and studied it, noting that Faolan was moving ever closer to the castle doors.

"There is only one reason he would show up after all this time. He is going to tell them." Gryffindor hesitated. "But wait, I was cloaked." He again paused, considering it very carefully. "What if he doesn't know it was me? What if he is only coming to ask for help?" he mused, deep in thought. "That's it. Has to be."

Godric suddenly sighed in clear relief. After several seconds, his eyes finally turned away from the glass. With a final flourish of his wand, he dissolved the image, returning the mirror to its natural state. He smiled, heart now lighter.

'But that fool of a werewolf is going to interfere,' Gryffindor thought hatefully, returning to his earlier train of thought. 'And I can't have that, can I?' he mused, twirling his wand with his fingers. 'No, I can't,' he decided.

Godric inhaled slowly, thinking over the problem. 'That interfering busy body should have been put down years ago,' he put in rhetorically, an evil smirk alit what were once kinder features, 'just like that foolish friend of his. Humph, sly Slytherins indeed.' He all but spat the thought.

Completely turning from the mirror, he began to pace. 'I have to do something. I have to stop that creature before he ruins everything.'

Godric paused mid-step, coming to a decision. He moved to the wardrobe, opening the oaken doors. His hands traveled to a hidden compartment, removing a silvery transparent object, an Invisibility cloak. Gryffindor stared at the glittering fabric for a moment before nodding his head, thereby cementing his resolve. He quickly stuffed the cloak into an inner pocket of his rusty, red robes and headed for the door of his chambers.

A treacherous smile spread across his face. "I am coming for you werewolf… creature," he whispered, a dark chuckle escaped his lips, "monster." Pyrite eyes glowed in an unholy light.

* * *

**_Number Four, Privet Drive: July 29th, 1996_**

The pictures moved in a torrent of color, light dancing across the paper. Shades of blue, red, green, and all the other imaginable colors cascaded about the page of some nameless wizarding book. Emerald eyes quickly scanned through the text, clearly searching for something. A hand lifted to the page and swiftly turned it before he again scanned the text. The page was once more turned, and the entire process repeated.

After what seemed like days, but was probably more like hours, the book was closed with a soft thump and was deposited upon a rickety desk. The wary hands moved to an equally tired face. The weary fingers smoothly removed the spectacles that were perched rather precariously and began to rub the bridge of a nose.

Harry Potter sighed to himself; this was getting him nowhere. Spending the last few hours searching through obscure texts looking for interesting spells or objects that could possibly be of use was not his ideal usage of his very limited time. Especially when most of the spells in said books consisted of Color Changing charms or something equally frivolous.

'I could be studying right now, preparing myself for the war and the battles to come. But no, I just had to agree to help Hermione with her research.' Harry sighed dramatically, his hands continuing to rub his aching nose. 'When I volunteered for this, I knew that it would be tedious and would most likely have little or no results… but this is madness! Out of all these books that she sent me I have found absolutely nothing that is useful!'

The Gryffindor glowered as his narrowed eyes moved to the enormous stack of books. If he included those Dumbledore had sent earlier, the pile quite literally took up his entire desk and a good portion of the surrounding floor.

'When she said that she was sending a few for me to look through I was expecting five or possibly ten tops. A few to me is about three, but I know that Hermione a few is usually just under a dozen. But still, sending over thirty is a bit much.' He sniffed forcefully and fought the urge to scowl. 'Yet, knowing Hermione, I really should have expected this.' He exhaled, finally replacing his glasses on his face. 'How is it that I always seem to end up in these situations?' he questioned rhetorically with a toss of his head.

When Harry had written Hermione about his quite extraordinary, OWL scores, all he had been expecting in her letter was a congratulations. However, he had also received a plea for assistance with her research. Being the nice friend, or brainless idiot as he was now referring to himself, the teenager had agreed. He had shaken his head, an odd sense of foreboding in his mind, and had sent Hedwig with a swift reply. If Hermione truly needed help, he might as well be quick about it.

The very next day the sixth-year had been woken bright and early by a rather unhappy Tonks. She had just gotten of her shift at work, only to have Hermione descend on her, demanding that she deliver Harry's mail. The Auror had somewhat reluctantly dropping off a letter and a small box no bigger than an Exploding Snap deck before departing. In the meantime, Harry had fervently hoped that this was indeed Hermione's package and not some twisted prank by Gred and Forge. Uncertainly, he had taken both and had cautiously opened and read the letter:

_Harry,_

_Thank you for agreeing to help me research. I know that you have been focusing on studying, and I truly appreciate you taking the time to assist me. Bill has been working on _another project_ and just can't seem to pull himself away from it. _

_Enclosed with this letter is an enspelled package_…

His eyes had traveled to the tiny package, which was obviously spelled by Bill, for Hermione would trust no one else with it_._

…_that contains all of the books I would like you to look through. Just take your wand and tap the top. Don't worry. No actual spell is involved on your part, so the Ministry will not be dropping by for a visit._

_Thank you again._

_Love always,  
__**Hermione**_

Harry had warily eyed the box for several moments before reluctantly moving to follow Hermione's instructions. He reached into his back pocket and removed his wand, buttocks still firmly attached, cautiously tapping it on the tiny box. Faster than the Gryffindor had thought possible, the box had explosively expanded, forcing him to step back in order to make room lest he be squished. Carefully, he had stepped forward and lifted the lid, his already wide eyes bulging when he noticed the sheer amount of books inside. He had shaken his head, running a hand through his dark hair. Hermione had said a few.

That had only been a few tedious hours ago. But to him, it felt as though days had passed. And judging by the volume of books he had searched through, Harry thought that it truly might have been several days.

He once again glared at the stack of books. The teenager heaved a heavy sighed, the air expelling forcefully from his mouth and blowing his bangs back from his forehead. He warily reached over and grabbed a book at random, opening it to the first page.

For several moments, Harry searched through the text, silently wishing that he could be studying instead of researching. Suddenly, his eyes stopped scanning, for a rather odd entry had caught his attention.

_The Phoenix Gate_:

_Believed doorway through time and space. The Gate does not have a fixed position but rather changes its location, usually moving to current centers of magical activity. Various sightings have been reported in Babylon, Memphis, Thebes, Athens, Rome, etc. Its current location is unknown. _

_Deriving its name from the intricate, and reportedly, tiny phoenix-like craving on its surface, the Gate is a central point of many legends and myths. In fact, the Gate is credited with the happenings of several key moments in both wizarding and Muggle history. One such incident occurred in the early second century, during the infamous Roman uprising. According to legends, the Lady Esperanza de La Muerte used the Gate to travel back through time, thereby altering the original timeline,__in which the Roman Muggles were victorious, and ensuring victory for magical kind. _

_Numerous other myths and tales encompass the Phoenix Gate as well, including rumors that the Gate was located in Great Britain in the centuries before the Norman invasion in 1066 A.D._

_While there are numerous accounts of the Gate, there is no clear physical description. Some stories state that it is an actual gateway_ _or arch, while others assert that it is a door set in stone. There are even a few rumors that suggest the "Gate" part of its name is misleading and that…_

Harry sat in silence, staring at the page. His eyes were fixed upon the words, as though trying to burn them into his mind. Unexpectedly, a large grin spread across his tired face.

'Maybe there is something worthwhile in these books, after all.'

* * *

**_Saint Ottery, Lovegood Home: July 29th, 1996_**

Water cascaded downward it a smooth rush before landed with a soft tickle in a silvery basin. A simple, white cloth was daintily dipped into the liquid by a tanned hand. The hand moved to the surface of a quite dirty and ancient mirror, gently wiping away the dust and grime of the last half-decade. The cloth was removed from the mirror and again dipped within the water, now softly washing the intricate carvings along the glass' edge. The now grayish and somewhat dirty fabric wiped the golden moons and stars, removing all trace of tarnish and bringing back a nice metallic shine.

With a soft sigh, the cloth was again taken away from the mirror and returned to the basin. Only this time, the fabric was not dipped into the water but rather laid upon the smooth edge. A young lady stepped back from the mirror, admiring her work. In the glass her reflection was clearly visible: a girl with waist length gold-silver hair dressed in various shades of blue, and a talisman of swirling color could be seen peaking out just below her neckline. A small smile graced her dreamy face, her eyes noting that her mirror-twin was also grinning, for she was quite pleased with her work, too. Despite the original amount of dust, the glass was now completely spotless. It surprised Luna how much dirt had accumulated on the silvery surface as it had probably not been cleaned since the mirror's last use. But then, neither her father nor she had wished to disturb any of her mother's things.

Blue eyes quickly shifted from the glass, the girl turning away. There were other, much more pressing matters to attend to in place of reminiscing. Regardless, Luna still glanced briefly once more at the mirror.

'It will be time for mirror-gazing later,' she thought to herself. Her hands moved to the amulet encircling her neck. 'I have other things I must do first.'

Smoothly and in a single motion, Luna slid the chain above her head, removing the amulet. She held it in both of her hands, bringing the swirling stone down in front of her, one hand on each end. She forcefully began to pull in different directions. A strange almost cracking noise echoed for a moment, and the artifact was now in two perfect halves, split straight down the center.

She thoughtfully gazed at her handy work, a firm smile crossing her face. "One for me… and one for him," she whispered to herself, caressing the two halves.

The swirling blue stone glowed brighter, as if in response to the comment. Where there had been one broken chain hanging from the amulet, there were now two complete, one from each half.

A delicate eyebrow rose in surprise as she studied the new development. "I was not expecting that."

The talisman again gleamed.

Shaking her head, the teenager placed one of the chains around her neck again. The swirling stone dropped gently, nestling itself above her breastbone, very warm to the touch. Another grin tugged at her lips as the glowing warmth began to spread throughout her body, melding with her magic.

After a few seconds, Luna produced a preaddressed envelope from one of her many pockets. With the grace of someone who knew exactly what they were doing, she placed the remaining half within the envelope and sealed it. She walked to her window and the storm-cloud grey owl that was perched upon its edge.

"Argent," the teenager called, addressing the bird. "You know where this is to go," she stated urgently, whilst tying the precious package around a raised leg.

The owl nodded in response, hooting softly and eyeing her mistress.

Luna beamed. "Good, girl." Her eyes were filled with a fiery determination. "I know that this is probably not the safest method, but I dare not use any other, at least not yet." She stopped speaking and sighed heavily. "Just please, I beg you, be safe and fly fast." A bronzed hand reached out to caress the beautiful bird.

"He must get this," she indicated the package. "Make sure he gets it," Luna repeated, staring directly into the owl's eyes, as if trying to burn the message into the bird's mind. "Let no one else… let **nothing** else come near you until it is delivered. Nothing at all, neither friend or foe."

The owl hooted and quickly flew out the window. And hopeful eyes watched as the bird became a smaller and smaller speck in the sky.

"Please," Luna murmured, patting the amulet as one would touch a friend. "Please, let her make it. Please, let it get to him."

* * *

_Commemini_: To Remember. Verbal and non-verbal. Causes the caster to remember their dealing with a particular person, place or event.

AN: This chapter is part one of two. Originally, it was all together, but it made the chapter far longer than I really wanted it to be, so I divided it into two parts.

Also, the "past" parts from the Founders' time take place from late December to early January, so it is roughly two months before Salazar is murdered, which is in late February. At this time, Rowena is about five months pregnant. Oh, Rowena **is** in fact having twins, a girl and a boy.

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby_ for the beta and Our Catholic Faith (online) for the Latin translation.

_Chapter Nine: Secrets within the Secret Headquarters_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**05/31/08**


	10. Secrets within the Secret Headquarters

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Secrets within the Secret Headquarters**

**_Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place (Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix), The Kitchen: July 29th, 1996_**

Molly Weasley was not happy. Not happy at all. Resembling a saber-toothed tiger more than she did a woman.

And she roughly swirled the batter in her bowl as she silently fumed. 'The nerve of that man,' she growled to herself angrily, stirring the cake batter harder. 'Telling me that we can't even send Harry birthday gifts, making that poor boy wait, making him believe that we've forgotten. Oh, I think not!' She furiously poured the extremely well-mixed batter into a baking pan and placed it in the oven. The task complete, she all but threw the now empty bowl and the matching spoon into the sink.

Minerva McGonagall, who had just walked in, was rather surprised by the redhead's display of temper. "Molly," she inquired, "what by Circe are you doing?"

"Fixing supper. What does it look like I am doing?" she asked tartly as she flung dishes onto the counter and proceeded to search out ingredients.

The professor's eyes widened in slight shock since she had not entered the kitchen expecting to be sniped at. "It looks like you are more interested in destroying dinner than serving it," she quipped. "Whatever is the matter?"

A cool and somewhat calculating look was her only reply.

"Is it something to do with Arthur?" the Transfiguration teacher asked suspiciously, the possibilities whirling in her mind. She moved further into the kitchen, finally leaving the relative safety of the doorway. When she received no response, Minerva questioned further, "Or is it about the children? Harry," she uttered suddenly. "Did something happen to Harry?" Fear was rising in her belly.

Molly, taking pity on the now extremely worried professor, answered, "No, nothing happened to Harry or to anyone for that matter." She sighed. "It's what **he** is trying to do to poor Harry that I am so angry about. Imagine," she huffed to both herself and to Minerva, "not sending the boy something for his birthday. By Morgana, he'd probably think that we had forgotten it entirely. Not send him something indeed," she mumbled to herself, turning back around. She flung open a cabinet, reaching for cups. Her brown eyes were blazing.

A minute passed in silence before she spoke again. "'**The owls can be traced**,' " the Weasley matriarch mimicked fiercely, whirling to face the older woman. "I told him, you know. I told him that we can simply give Harry's gifts to the guards to give to him. I know that Tonks passes letters to him that way," Molly stated. "We won't even have to owl them then – not that Errol could survive the flight as it is," she continued blithely on her little rant, oblivious to Minerva's obvious confusion.

"What are you talking about, Molly?" the older woman demanded in bewilderment, her lips thinning dramatically. She marched right up to the redhead, grabbing her former student by the shoulders.

"Dumbledore!" Molly all but shouted. "He doesn't want us to send Harry anything for his birthday, not even a note." She sniffed sharply and stared into Minerva's cool, grey eyes. "He said that any owls we send might be intercepted or tracked." She threw her hands up into the air spectacularly. "What utter rubbish! We've been owling him all summer with no complications. I don't see why we should stop now! And another thing…" She finally paused for breath before carrying on, "We could just give his gifts to the guards to deliver. I believe that both Tonks and Alastor have shifts that day, either one of them could do it. I'd trust them not to steal or break his things." She grumbled then, mumbling something that suspiciously sounded like "Mundungus Fletcher that good-for-nothing ruffian."

Minerva though for a moment, belatedly releasing her hold on the other woman. Her current expression was one her students would immediately recognize, one that would most likely send many of them fleeing in terror. Her own Gryffindors especially.

"Why would Albus not want us to send anything?" She gazed at her friend intently, not at all liking her expression. "I do not believe for a second that he is being honest in his reasoning. Like you suggested, there are other ways to ensure the presents are received by Harry."

Molly shrugged. "I don't know why, but I most certainly didn't believe him when he offered excuses. He's up to something, I tell you, and I am going to find out what!"

The two lingered in relative silence after Molly's blunt statement. Minerva drifted over to the table and began setting down plates, having to magic several back together along the way. The Weasley matriarch continued cooking, adding several items to the already baking dishes. Finally, after starting to feel a bit uncomfortable, she shifted.

Molly cast her mind in search of a new topic before smiling with mock innocence. "So, what's this I hear about Filius and you in a secret relationship?" she inquired sweetly.

"A secret relationship?" Minerva asked wide-eyed. She forcefully pulled a chair out from the table. "Who told you that?"

Molly smirked. "Poppy, who is ever the hopeless romantic. She thought that you might be--"

"We are most certainly not!" the brunette stated vehemently, interrupting the other woman and flinging herself into the chair.

The redhead actually chuckled then. "Oh, I know that and told her as much. I figured that you must have your eye on **someone else**." She emphasized the last words. Clearly, she had that someone else in mind.

The professor sniffed severely and gave an uncharacteristic scowl, one odd reminiscent of Severus Snape. "There is no one else," she asserted.

"But what about--" Molly began but was cut off by the other woman.

The Transfiguration professor sent a harsh look at the redhead. "For Merlin's sake, Molly, he used to be one of my students."

"But he's not now," the other retorted, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "And you, both of you, deserve to be happy." She smiled wickedly. "Don't deny that you fancy him. I know that you do. I have seen the way you look at him when you think no one is watching. It's exactly the same way he looks at you."

The Transfiguration teacher gifted her with a stern look, trying to mask her mounting hope, and she cleared her throat rather nervously. "Regardless of whatever you might perceive our feelings to be, we have a strictly professional relationship." She fixed a suspicious glare at Molly. "I don't want any of your meddling. I know how you are. You forget, Miss Prewett, I taught you, too." She lifted her chin and sniffed disdainfully. "I do not want any part in your matchmaking. I saw what you were trying to do with Archimedea Vector and Kingsley Shacklebolt."

Molly actually smirked then, an expression that wouldn't be out of place on the faces of her twins. "I have you know that I did not try to match make Kingsley with her. She's not really his type, if you know what I mean." She winked dramatically, further emphasizing the likeness to her twin sons and Bill, for that matter.

The professor's eyebrow rose significantly. "Really? I didn't know that." The suspicious gleam returned to her eyes. "Still, don't try anything. I really just cannot face this right now," she added with a faint whisper.

Molly eyed her and finally nodded in acquiescence. "Fine." She breathed exasperatedly and rolled her eyes.

"Good," Minerva announced with a note of closure. "So," she asked, leaning toward the redhead slightly, "what's for dinner?"

* * *

**_Grimmauld Place, Second Floor Hallway: The Same Day_**

He roamed the hallway, pausing to open doors and look inside. 'Where are they?' he wondered as he ran a hand through his vivid red hair and shrugged dejectedly. 'Where is everyone?'

He knew that his mother and McGonagall were in the kitchen, talking about Merlin only knew what. But where was everyone else? Where were his brothers and sister? Where was Lupin? Where were the Aurors and other Order members? Where was Hermione?

He shook his head in exasperation. 'They've all been avoiding me,' he thought dejectedly. 'Maybe they just don't want me around anymore.' Listless blue eyes were filled with sadness.

"Are they mad at me? Did I do something wrong?" he murmured to the empty hallway, pausing to wait for a reply.

But none answered. No one was even there.

After several moments, he breathed heavily and continued his meandering path to various rooms. 'Nothing has been the same since the ministry. Since Sirius…' His thoughts trailed off as they became far too painful.

'Everything has just been so… off lately. Everything just seems wrong.' He considered the idea for a minute. 'But nobody else seems to notice. Or at least, they aren't saying anything about it.' A strange and sudden idea formed in his mind. 'Maybe something is wrong with them. Maybe they're all sick or something.'

A dreadful and horrible thought unexpectedly occurred to him. 'What if nothing's wrong with them?' He paused, the implications sinking in. 'What if something's wrong with me?'

* * *

**Grimmauld Place, Third Floor Study: The Same Day**

"Are you insane, Hermione!?" Ginny questioned loudly. Without a doubt the presence of Silencing spells was the only thing preventing the entire household from hearing her. "Invite Draco Malfoy to join us? What are you thinking? Have you bloody gone mad? This isn't some little adventure."

"No, I have not," Hermione answered hotly, her eyes taking on a particular gleam, the same one that was present when she started talking about SPEW. "I think it would be a grand idea. He seemed different this past year, like he was only spouting off that stuff for show." She sniffed loudly. "I think it was all an act."

"And a damn convincing one," George inserted very smoothly. "He sure had me fooled. Didn't he, brother?" He turned to his twin for confirmation, but the still shocked Fred could only nod in agreement.

Hermione looked around, searching for additional support. Her hopeful gaze landed on Bill, who was already a convert. She had convinced him early on that it might be wise to approach Malfoy and maybe a few of the other Slytherins. That only left Charlie and Remus, for she had yet to hear their opinions. She glanced at her former professor for a moment, but he seemed to be thinking it over. Instead, the Prefect turned to Charlie, who was sitting in a chair to her left.

"What do you think, Charlie?" she inquired with obvious hope.

"Um…er…" was he intelligible reply, and his face showed clear confusion. "I don't really know him enough to judge," he evaded.

Hermione sighed and looked at the others. Ginny looked torn between anger and absolute horror. Bill was doing a blank face, which was his cover for pondering. Fred and George looked like a cross between bemusement and shock. It was the exact same look they had given when one of their pranks had backfired last year and turned Filch into a purple dancing hippogriff.

Even Remus, the ever reasonable one, was eyeing her with trepidation. "Perhaps we should adopt a wait and see policy," he suggested softly, sinking in his seat even more. The most recent full moon and the loss of his last remaining packmate had taken a heavy toll on him, and his eyes were practically drooping as he tried to remain awake. "Just in case," he added slowly.

This statement seemed to instantly appease everybody except Ginny, who merely humphed and sank down in her seat.

Remus breathed an almost unperceivable sigh of relief, and he gave a weak smile. "Any other suggestions for who we should bring in?" At the shrugs and head-shaking, the werewolf continued, "So far the people in this are those in this room, as well as, Harry, Neville, Luna, and Athena." The former professor paused, his hands quivering faintly. "Ginny, has Dean hinted that he might join us?"

Their youngest member was still glowering but mumbled an affirmative. She shot a guarded look at Hermione.

"So he's with us as well then?" Remus questioned gently, receiving a nod. "Any other suggestions?"

"A few," Ginny replied, finally ending her ire. "I think that when we are back at school I might approach a few of my year-mates in Ravenclaw, Charlie Darwin and Greg Mendel. They seem to be pretty trustworthy, and they are the only Ravenclaws in our year that don't harass Luna." She thought for a moment. "Athena said that she might try a few of the Hufflepuffs. Aries, the seventh-year Prefect, is her older brother."

"Wait, who did you say for the Ravenclaws? Was it Darwin and Mendel?" Hermione interrupted, looking at Ginny. "Weren't those the two that Luna wanted to bring to the DA if we start it up again?"

"Yeah. She said that they are actually quite nice and that they stick up for her in the Common Room and everything," Ginny stated, a hint of anger returning to her voice when she addressed Hermione. "Is it alright to talk to them about everything?" she asked. "I figured that they'd be better than some."

"Seems to be fine, especially if Luna will vouch for them," Remus replied tiredly, his head resting on the back of his chair. "Are we still going to approach Tonks and Kingsley?" he asked the group, an odd note of hope in his voice. He received a round of affirmatives as a reply. He hesitated before continuing, "I say we should ask Alastor. Even though he's friends with the headmaster--"

"We agree," Fred and George put in rather unexpectedly. This statement was rather surprising as the twins had had a bit of a pranking war with Moody the summer before.

"He's trustworthy," George stated bluntly.

"And he's dead knowledgeable." Fred added.

"And I think that he--"

"--suspects that--"

"--the Ministry and the rest of the lot are up to something," they finished together.

Remus blinked a few times before continuing his earlier train of thought. "I take it that Moody should be included also."

"Sure."

"That's fine."

"Of course."

"Yes."

"It looks like everyone is in agreement then," Remus concluded. "Now, on to the next order of business." He paused, eyes flicking about, and added, "The headmaster… what have you discovered?"

"Not much," Bill stated flatly. "Hermione and I haven't really had the time; we've been working on the counter to _Avada Kedavra_." He finished with a shrug, noting everyone's shudder at the mention of the Killing curse.

"Not much for us either," Fred answered, indicating George and himself. "We've had too many experiments going to really have time to spy on Dumbledore." He glanced at his twin. "But we have noticed something. When he was here the other day, he had this odd gleam in his eye… other than the usual twinkle."

"Yeah," Charlie stated, "I noticed that, too. I overheard he and Tonks talking about guard duty, you know, for Harry." His face suddenly hardened. "I think he was asking her to do something with or maybe to Harry." He exhaled sharply. "Dumbledore, it's like he knows something really important that he's not telling us. Something about Harry," the man finished.

"Yes." Hermione nodded in concurrence, bushy hair swishing. "It's like he's holding something back, something really important." She hesitated and glanced at Bill, brown eyes meeting dark blue. "I think that it might have something to do with the prophecy from the Ministry." She tried hard to repress the shiver that always came when thinking about the Department of Mysteries.

Everyone paused, considering what had just been revealed.

Ginny finally spoke up after a second, "That's not all either. I have noticed that he has been pushing us to do stuff lately, things we normally wouldn't do." She looked about the room. "He keeps pushing us in certain directions. It's like he wants us to do certain things, but he won't even give us a reason for it. He keeps guiding us toward a particular path almost like he's trying to control us or at least what we do." She sighed. "It's getting pretty bad, especially when it comes to Harry or the Order or even just the members of our family." She snarled slightly, "He didn't even want us to send Harry birthday presents this year, Maker only knows why." She scowled menacingly.

"That's right," Fred interrupted. "I heard him telling Mum that, something about not wanting owls to be tracked to Harry's house." He rolled his eyes at the thought. "Mum didn't look convinced though; she said that it was rather stupid as the Order is standing right outside his house and can simply hand-deliver the gifts. I think that was what she was planning on doing anyway since the flight would probably finish Errol off."

Almost everyone, even George, seemed completely taken back by what Fred had just said. Ginny, however, looked downright furious. She had taken to defending Harry with a passion that clearly stated she no longer fancied him but now viewed the dark-haired teenager as a Weasley in disguise.

"I know that he is the head of the Order, but he has no right to dictate our actions!" she declared angrily. "We aren't his pawns to be maneuvered about the chessboard. He can't completely control our lives--"

"Oh, Merlin! Do you realize what you just said?" George suddenly uttered, turning to his twin. A silent conversation passed between them in mere seconds, and Fred's eyes widened in sudden understanding.

Ginny, who was not privy to the quiet twin-talk, demanded, "What?" Her eyes were rapidly narrowing in suspicion. For such a pretty and petite girl, she was fast resembling Molly Weasley. A very scary thing indeed.

Everyone else simply sat in relative silence, watching the proceedings like a Muggle tennis match.

"It's just that--" George began somewhat nervously. In his opinion, and his twin agreed with him, Ginny was becoming a bit too much like their mother.

"--I never thought I would say this--" Fred continued in what he thought was a winning tone.

"--especially about him--"

"--but I believe that--"

"--well, as far as Dumbledore goes--"

They finished together, "--Percy was right!"

And their statement was met with complete and total silence.

* * *

**_Grimmauld Place, First Floor Parlor: The Same Day_**

She had violent, violet hair and a heart-shaped face. And currently, she was giving Alastor Moody dirty looks.

"Come off it, Mad-Eye." She rolled her eyes, one red and the other green. "I don't think that Hermione and Bill are having an affair. Illicit or otherwise."

"I agree," Kingsley Shacklebolt chimed in. "There might be some sparks, but Bill is far too honorable to trying anything while she's still in school." A smirked tugged at his lips, as though he was secretly laughing at something.

"Plus, Molly would kill the both of them since Hermione is quote 'far too young and naïve for her own good.'" Tonks made air quotation marks with her fingers, and she again rolled her eyes. "I think that Molly is the naïve one if she believes that sixteen is too young for a boyfriend."

A gruff mumble was the only reply from Moody.

Kingsley chuckled at her. "I seem to recall that the young and naïve comment was actually directed at you, and it had nothing to do with boys but rather your unnatural obsession with changing your face at the dinner table."

Tonks ignored both the statement, going on blithely, "I know that Hermione and Bill have been sneaking off lately and have been acting quite peculiar." She paused, as though thinking. "But I don't think they are… well… you know."

Kingsley smiled at the female Auror's ever visible embarrassment. "Yeah, I think that we know what you mean." His smile widened as she fixed him with a mean stare. "But other people have been acting odd lately as well. The twins and Ginny have been spending a lot of time shut up in one of the rooms on the third floor. I have no idea what they're doing up there, but knowing the dynamic duo, it's nothing good. At least, nothing good for whomever they decide to prank."

Moody gruffly spoke up next. "Lupin has been acting rather dodgy as well. At first, I thought it was because of Black."

Both Tonks and Kingsley winced at the name and the reminder of one they both missed.

"But I am just not sure about that anymore," Mad-Eye finished, his beady eye narrowing. In turn, his magical one rolled about his skull before fixing at a point above and to his left. "He's up there now with the Weasley kids and Granger. Looks like they are talking about something."

There was a brief pause of silence as all three Aurors wondered what was occurring upstairs.

Kingsley cleared his throat and spoke in his normal albeit deep voice, "Is Ron with them?"

Alastor's eye swiveled about for a second. "No, he's wandering down the hallway on the second floor." His magical eye turned to Kingsley. "Why do you ask?" he inquired suspiciously.

The dark-skinned man inhaled sharply and began to look distinctly nervous… or as nervous as one such as himself ever really became. "He's another one that has been off lately. He's been going off by himself a great deal. I have no idea where he goes. Plus, the other kids seem to be avoiding him."

"Maybe they've had a row," Tonks suggested helpfully, running her hand through her now bright and very blue hair.

The bald Auror considered the comment. "Maybe, but there have been a few other things I've noticed as well."

"Like what?" Moody asked abruptly.

"Like the fact that he has only written Potter once. I know that the others must have written a dozen times all told, but Ron only wrote one letter and a rather short one at that." Shacklebolt stated, "And… well, I wasn't supposed to say anything, but Arthur asked me if I had noticed anything funny about him. He said that Ginny mentioned something about him acting really peculiar at school just before term ended." He exhaled heavily and ran a hand over his hairless head. "I told him that it probably had to do with the Ministry battle, but that we should still watch Ron."

"Hmm… yes, we should watch him. Constant Vigilance, you know," Mad-Eye commented absentmindedly; he was clearly thinking deeply about the information the his fellow Auror had just revealed.

"Arthur seemed really worried, but he didn't want me to mention it to Molly. He figured that she has enough to fret over." Kingsley smiled slightly at the mention of the mollycoddling Molly Weasley.

"Good advice," Moody murmured to himself.

Both Tonks and Kingsley chuckled at the comment. Regardless, the female Auror suddenly sobered and shook her head in slight disgust.

"It's just weird that so many people are… well, acting weird."

Alastor grumbled with vigorous agreement, "Hell, even Albus has been strange recently. He keeps asking me to use my eye to spy on Potter every time I'm on guard duty." He made a gruff sound that might have been a sigh if coming from anyone else. "Sure I look in every now and then just to make sure he is still there and is safe, but it's not all the time. Constant vigilance is one thing, but I am not in the habit of being a voyeur. Merlin only knows what teenage boys do in their room when they're alone. I told him as much, but he insisted…" Moody's rant drifted off when he noticed the looks on both of his companions' faces.

Tonks, who seemed like someone had just told her Severus Snape was secretly a ballet dancer, spoke first. "That is--" She shivered violently. "I won't even finish that statement," she asserted. "Though, come to think of it, Dumbledore has been asking me to do some pretty dodgy things as well." She blinked before carrying on, "He asked me transform into one of Harry's friends and spend the day with him. You know, try to talk to him and find out what's been going on at the Privet drive front."

Shacklebolt, whose eyes had been as round as galleons at Moody's blunt announcement, stated, "I assume that Potter wouldn't know it was you in the guise of one of his friends." Tonks simply nodded. "Well, Dumbledore hasn't asked me to do anything to the boy directly, but he did want me to use my Auror clearance and check all of Potter's Ministry files." He paused, dark eyes gazing at his companions. "Even the confidential ones and the ones that aren't **supposed** to exist, like the ones detailing all of his tax and financial information--"

"Hold on," Tonks interrupted, eyes blazing and face bristling. "Why, by Rowena, would Dumbledore want to know about Harry's money? We all know that he is loaded, so why worry if he has enough?" She sniffed indignantly. "And you can't get into those files anyway. Only people with Gringotts' approval or that work in the Tax Division can see those. Even then, you'd have about twenty Privacy and Confidentiality charms placed on you."

The dark-skinned Auror fixed her with an agreeing glance. "You know that. I know that. Hell, Dumbledore should know that, but he still asked." He sighed again and ran a hand over his bald head once more. "I had to tell him no. There's just no way I can get access to that kind of information. Even Fudge can't access stuff like that."

"Are there any other odd requests from the headmaster?" Tonks inquired shrewdly.

Kingsley shook his head no, but Mad-Eye nodded. "He asked me to check the defenses of Hogwarts, not the wards themselves but the structure of the building and the surrounding area. I suppose the two of you will help me." The grizzled, old Auror made it more a statement than a question.

"Yeah."

"Of course."

Moody smiled in a charming manner, something unusual in and of itself. "Good. Which parts do you suggest we see to?" he asked, testing the skills of the other two Aurors.

"Gryffindor Tower," Shacklebolt suggested. "Wait scratch that. All of the House dormitories… even Slytherin. Not all of them are bad."

Tonks thought for a moment before replying, "The Hospital Wing." She smirked naughtily. "Ginny told me that Harry practically lives there during the school term."

"Yes, the dormitories and the Hospital Wing, especially with how often Potter ends up there," Alastor concluded, looking oddly pleased at the thought.

Both Tonks and Kingsley studied him intently, fighting back smiles.

Finally, the metamorph could not resist anymore. "Check out the Hospital Wing, eh?" She looked like she was trying not to laugh. "Maybe Kingsley and I should do that instead. I think that you are more interested in scoping out the nurse than the hospital."

A faint hint of red could be seen in Moody's scarred cheeks. He did not bother to comment and merely settled for glaring at her with **both** eyes.

"Come on, Mad-Eye," Tonks continued with a noticeable smirk. "We know you're just looking for another excuse to return to Hogwarts and ogle Pomfrey."

"Just like you ogled the new Defense teacher when we were there earlier this week," Moody shot back gruffly, his magical eye bulging out. "Don't deny it. I know that you and he were having a little stare-fest on the fourth floor just outside the new dueling area." He grinned nastily, showing that there were several gaps in his teeth.

The female Auror looked somewhat taken back by the comment. "How could you possibly know that?" she murmured more to herself than to her companions. "You were at least three corridors away from us." She glanced at his magical eye and then immediately scowled. She opened her mouth to retort but was interrupted by the third occupant of the room.

"That's enough, **Nymphadora**," Kingsley put in smoothly, trying to break up the argument before it even had a chance to start.

Moody's smirk immediately widened, but it quickly vanished when the bald Auror turned to gaze at him.

"I think," the dark-skinned man continued easily, "that we should get back to the topic at hand." His gaze flicked back and forth between the other two. "Now, what **other** places do you suggest?"

* * *

AN: This chapter is basically a meant to lighten the mood a bit and add some depth to certain aspects of the story. There are a few hints to future chapters and side plots in this chapter, so it does have some purpose. But really, I just felt like doing something different.

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby_ for the beta.

_Chapter Ten: Through the Looking Glass, Part Two_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**05/31/08**


	11. Through the Looking Glass, Part Two

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon. Oh, the title is a reference to a book, which I most certainly do not own.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

_It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you._

- Unknown

**  
Chapter Ten: Through the Looking Glass, Part Two**

**_A Few Chapters Ago…_**

'_But that fool of a werewolf is going to interfere,' Gryffindor thought hatefully, returning to his earlier train of thought. 'And I can't have that, can I?' he mused, twirling his wand with his fingers. 'No, I can't,' he decided. _

_Godric inhaled slowly, thinking over the problem. 'That interfering busy body should have been put down years ago,' he put in rhetorically, an evil smirk alit what were once kinder features, 'just like that foolish friend of his. Humph, sly Slytherins indeed.' He all but spat the thought. _

_Completely turning from the mirror, he began to pace. 'I have to do something. I have to stop that creature before he ruins everything.' _

_Godric paused mid-step, coming to a decision. He moved to the wardrobe, opening the oaken doors. His hands traveled to a hidden compartment, removing a silvery transparent object, an Invisibility cloak. Gryffindor stared at the glittering fabric for a moment before nodding his head, thereby cementing his resolve. He quickly stuffed the cloak into an inner pocket of his rusty, red robes and headed for the door of his chambers._

_A treacherous smile spread across his face. "I am coming for you werewolf… creature," he whispered, a dark chuckle escaped his lips, "monster." Pyrite eyes glowed in an unholy light._

* * *

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, The Grounds: The Same Day_**

Faolan watched as the boy all but ran to the castle, searching for Quinn, Salazar, or one of the other adults. He had discovered Elgin in the Hogwarts gardens as he was passing by and had sent the student on ahead to notify the professors of his visit. Hopefully, the young wizard would quickly spread the message and bring back adult assistance.

Time was of the essence, and Faolan had to warn the professors of what he had overheard in the Hog's Head. Hopefully, Elgin would return with Quinn or Salazar, for out of the seven main professors of the school, Faolan knew those two the best. Yet, most preferably, it would be Sal that he could speak with as he knew the young man by way of his late brother, Solaris.

Soli and he had basically grown up together and were constant companions during childhood. A situation that could most likely be contributed to the fact that both of their mother's were friends and would often visit one another as they lived just a few miles away, bringing their sons with them. The two boys had remained close friends even after Faolan had been bitten by a werewolf in his ninth year, thereby making him one as well.

In truth, Faolan had also been and was still very much a friend of Salazar, though their fifteen year difference in age made Sal much like a younger sibling. Their friendship, due in part to Solaris, had remained strong even after his death over a decade previous. In fact, it was as strong as ever these days, though they had not been able to visit as much in recent times due to the increase in anti-magical activities among the Muggles and partially due to the hectic schedule of Salazar's life, which was quite full because of the school and his infant son. The two had still sent constant messages, but Faolan had felt this information too sensitive to write of in letters, which could be easily intercepted or lost. So he had decided to come in person, leading to his current situation where he was rapidly approaching the castle.

The werewolf glanced at the Entrance Hall doors, which he was quickly drawing near, his golden eyes taking in the engraved script on them. It was a new addition since his last visit on the eve of Tristan's birth. He was surprised to see the enormous doors open as if by magic, and a figure in red robes walk through.

'Hmm,' he thought with growing happiness. 'Elgin was quite quick in finding someone.' He squinted at the person, immediately deciding that it was mostly definitely neither Quinn or Salazar. His mind rapidly ran through the list of adult males he currently knew who were residing in the castle.

'Well, it's not Sal, Quinn, or Edmund. That's for sure. It's not Riordan, the History professor, since he's not blond. It's probably not theMagical Creatures teacher, Banan, I believe. He's much too short.' Faolan gazed at the cloaked man, who was now approaching him.

He faltered a step, almost sending himself crashing to the ground. 'Great Maker… **is that Godric****!** I haven't seen him in years. He wasn't there when Salazar's son was born.' The werewolf cast about his mind, trying to remember the last time he had seen the fourth Founder. 'I haven't seen him since Solaris died.' His thoughts paused at the remembrance of his dead friend.

Faolan was abruptly brought out of his melancholy reverie as Godric Gryffindor came up and stopped directly beside him. "Greetings and welcome to Hogwarts School. I expect that there is a reason for your untimely visit." Pyrite eyes studied the werewolf as though searching for deception.

"Yes," the other man answered, trying to alleviate any concerns Godric might have, which no doubt stemmed from the fact that he was a werewolf. Gryffindor had always been uneasy around him due to that unfortunate circumstance. "I need to discuss a matter of great importance with you and the other professors." The wolf inside Faolan unexpectedly stirred.

"Really." Gryffindor's gaze still studied him intently. "Such as?" he inquired.

Faolan looked distinctly uncomfortable discussing such a sensitive topic in the open, and the wolf inside of him readily agreed. In truth, it was actually urging him to go inside. However, he knew that Godric would not allow him entrance into the castle unless he elaborated.

"A possible plot involving the school has recently come to my attention," Faolan answered against his wolf's wishes. "I have investigated some, but I do not know many details. I fear that you or one of the other professors may be in danger." His wolf was becoming rapidly uneasy due to the blond's presence, but Faolan put it down to mutual dislike on both Gryffindor's and the wolf's part. It urged Faolan to leave, to avoid Godric and come back at another time. Yet, he ignored the wolf's warning.

Godric's eyes widened in surprise. "You speak truly?" At the werewolf's nod, he continued, "Then, we must surely tell the others." There was an odd gleam in his metallic eyes as he signaled that they should proceed to the Entrance Hall. He gestured that Faolan should go before him.

The older man smiled with relief, but the wolf's unease nearly quadrupled. It begged him to flee, to leave and return at a later time. Nonetheless, he continued to ignore the wolf, quashing it down in his mind.

He simply nodded. "Very well. To the castle then."

Faolan next made possibly the worst mistake in his entire life. He turned his back to Godric Gryffindor.

However, the werewolf didn't have time to rectify his error, if he even realized that he had made one. All the registered in his final seconds were the sound of a wand flicking and two whispered words as a bright, green curse hit him squarely between his shoulder blades. Faolan fell unceremoniously to the ground, the black of death rushing in. And he knew no more.

* * *

**_Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office: July 30th, 1996_**

In the top of the central tower of Hogwarts School, an elderly but not feeble man sat behind a desk with his head in his hands. 'What am I doing?' he thought morosely. 'I know that these things must be done, that they need to be done. But is the cost truly worth it?'

He inhaled sharply, mumbling to himself, "Am I truly willing to risk an innocent boy?" He shook his head forcefully. "No. No, I am not. But what else can I possibly do? I can't let Tom win. He would destroy us all." The old man sighed then, quite defeated. "I just… I don't know what to do."

This sudden thought startled him. How could he, one of the greatest wizards of all time, one of the supposed wisest and most knowledgeable people in the world, not know what to do? Yet, after several heartbreaking, heart wrenching seconds Albus Dumbledore realized that it was nothing but the truth. He had no idea what to do, no idea how to proceed.

Should he risk the boy, Harry… **his** Harry? Should he not? Should he proverbially toss that bedamned prophecy out the window and try to defeat Riddle himself? What should he do?

Yet, try as he might. Rack his brain as he might. No answers were forthcoming.

He had tried so hard to do the right thing, but it seemed as though he could never quite succeed. In the beginning, he had viewed Harry as both a person and a means to an end. Albus had had to do what was best for the wizarding world, which was not always or ever the best for Harry.

The Dursleys were a prime example. He had placed Harry there for protection. Yes, that was true, but Harry was also there to ensure that the blood protection would remain active and therefore useable against Voldemort. Hagrid was another example. Albus had specifically sent the half-giant to pick up Harry, knowing that his anti-Slytherin sentiment would be spread to the boy. Further, he had ensured that Harry made contact with other anti-Slytherin people, namely the Weasleys, on the train.

He, Albus Dumbledore, had known that a non-Slytherin and preferably Gryffindor Harry Potter was exactly what the wizarding world wanted. So he had ensured that they got it, even at the expense of the boy's happiness. He had known that Harry would have been in Slytherin without his interference. Nevertheless, he couldn't take the chance that Harry would become another Riddle, regardless of how much he belonged in the house of green and silver.

However, something had changed in Dumbledore when he first caught sight of Harry again. Something he had longed suppressed had finally come out full force. The emotion he had forced down while he watched the boy struggle against his relatives. While he had watched and done nothing, knowing that Harry had to stay with them, knowing that his hands were tied. Knowing that it was best for the wizarding world and not for Harry himself if the blood sacrifice remained intact, if the boy-hero grew up away from his fame. He had watched it all, the toil and the hardships. He had watched and wept as he realized how the boy suffered, but he had to do what was best for the majority.

But that insuppressible feeling had overwhelmed him as Harry's first school year passed. And by the end, when the boy had asked him about Voldemort's desire to destroy him, Albus had finally realized that he had already lost the proverbial battle. And hell, he had lost even the war.

He loved Harry Potter.

He loved a boy that he needed to think of objectively. He loved a boy as one would love his own son. A boy who he knew was destined to face one of the greatest evils in existence.

In the years that followed, Albus had not even bothered to battle the feeling, knowing in his heart that he had already lost. But at the same time, he still had to prepare Harry as gently as possible for his destiny.

In the boy's second year, it had never been Albus' intention for Harry to fight the Basilisk. He had not wanted a twelve-year-old to face such a thing, but somehow, it had still happened. He had only wanted Harry to solve the mystery of the monster, a monster that Albus' had actually deduced was a Basilisk long before. Regardless, the boy and his friends' tenacity had surprised the headmaster. The trio had surpassed his wildest expectations by discovering that Voldemort was not actually possessing a student as Albus had presumed, though he didn't know which student it was, but it was a memory of Riddle that was the actual culprit.

In Harry's third, he had sent the boy back into the past, knowing that Harry would refuse to simply wait and allow someone else to help Sirius without him. True, Albus could have gone with them, but then, he would not have been able to run interference with Fudge and the Aurors, allowing Harry and Hermione to succeed in their quest.

In the boy's fourth year, he had actually tried to free the teenager from the tournament, though Harry was not aware of this and would probably never be. But somehow, even though Harry himself did not enter, the magical contract was still binding. Albus had yet to even figure that one out, and he had genuinely not known about the fake Moody. He had suspected that something was wrong. Perhaps Imperius or possibly Alastor was simply succumbing to the life of constant paranoia and was now senile.

The headmaster tilted his head up in an effort to dissolve his thoughts and looked warily around his office. His gaze roamed around the room. Harry had really done a number on his things, but in all honesty, he really did have far too much stuff. The professor quickly noted that Fawkes was sleeping soundly on his perch, his head under one wing. His blue eyes continued their journey to the Sorting Hat, which was humming merrily to itself on a shelf.

'Come to think of it,' the headmaster suddenly decided, 'the Hat has been acting rather odd lately. It keeps looking at me strangely, which is really saying something as the Hat has no eyes.' Albus considered this for a moment.

Deep down, he had the feeling that the Hat knew something very important, something that it was just not willing to share at the moment. He had felt something similar from the castle lately as well. She had been somewhat reluctant with him as of late whenever he conversed with her. She was behaving rather bizarrely, acting as though she was trying to hide something from him.

Albus eyed the Hat suspiciously. 'But then, it is possibly still angry that I didn't want Harry in Slytherin. Plus, the both of them – Hat and Castle – are probably still mad over my treatment of him last year.'

And that thought brought his mind to Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts. The past year, which had been nothing but one fiasco after another. Albus Dumbledore had believed that the teenager would be sad, despondent over the loss of a friend. He had never imagined that the boy would be so very angry, not that Albus' own actions had helped the volatile situation. He had even avoided eye contact with his most prized student, with his most beloved pupil.

'And Occlumency with Severus,' he thought incredulously, 'what in seven hells was I thinking?! I know that they must learn to work together and that Occlumency was the perfect opportunity. But still, I should have realized that Severus was not about to let his grudge go, allow his wounds to heal so easily.' He exhaled slowly, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his long nose.

Albus concluded after a moment, replacing his glasses, 'I should have taught Harry myself, not left it to Severus.' He suddenly smiled with hope. 'But I will rectify that mistake. I will teach him Occlumency myself. Surely, the books that I sent him will be of help.'

The professor's smile faded as his thoughts turned turbulent once again, and he remembered another blunder of the past year, Sirius. He had really and truly blown it, as they say. He should have known that Sirius would not stand for being caged again, not after Azkaban. Nonetheless, his desire to protect the man and his desire to make amends for not believing Sirius' innocence had overridden his common sense.

'And now it is both Sirius and Harry that have paid the price of my blunder,' Albus concluded. 'Harry… my poor Harry.'

He was worrying even more for the boy over the summer than usual, if such a thing were even possible. Albus knew that Harry would mostly likely be even angrier and more aggressive than before. Glancing around his office, he could almost imagine the damage that had surely been inflicted upon Number Four, Privet Drive. The teenager was bound to be furious, and he had every right to be.

However, a new and heart wrenching concern had entered the headmaster's mind shortly before the summer. What if Harry, who had suffered so very severely and who had lost the one person he loved most of all, attempted to harm himself?

There was a very good chance that this could actually occur, and it was this same fear that had first led the professor to use Peachy the house-elf to spy on Harry. Albus had believed and still very much thought that Harry would not tell him or any member of the Order of his true feelings. The boy would only tell such things to his friends. Nevertheless, they in turn would probably not tell the Order either. The only way to truly find out about the teenager's mental state was to have him watched. Yet, this had turned into another disaster, for Harry had discovered Peachy.

From there, Albus had sent books as an apology and had actually asked Harry if everything was alright. A stupid thing to do considering that Sirius had recently died and Harry was most certainly not all right. He had even inquired if the teenager was still having the visions, wanting to know if Tom was attempting to punish the boy through their connection. However, the headmaster suspected that Harry saw this inquiry as further proof that Albus cared nothing for him, only his scar.

Eventually, after the house-elf fiasco, his fear for Harry had once more led him to ask Alastor to watch the teenager even more closely. It was also this fear that had made him ask Tonks to transform into one of the boy's friends and speak with him.

At the remembrance, Albus again shook his head, melancholy filling his mind. Yet, before he could be lost in the uprising of sadness, he heard a rustle of wings as Fawkes the phoenix landed on his shoulder. The sound of uplifting notes resounded in his ears, trying to banish the depression.

"I just wish," he whispered to the bird, "I just wish, for just this once, I had someone to ask for help. Someone else to help me decide." He absentmindedly lifted a hand and stroked the phoenix. "You are good at giving advice, my friend. But even between the two of us, it seems as though everything is falling apart." He exhaled heavily and physically turned to his familiar Fawkes. "They expect me to have all the answers, my friend. But I don't. I don't really have any answers."

Fawkes trilled and nodded his head in understanding. "Maybe you should go to them, the Order, and explain what is happening. They will understand that you need assistance. You cannot possible do everything on your own." The phoenix mentally whispered the words to Albus, "Further, you need to tell them, Molly Weasley especially, why you didn't want them to send Harry birthday gifts."

Albus actually winced at the reminder of Molly's resulting tirade when he had informed her that she was not to send Harry gifts.

"That was truly a stupid move on your part, Albus," the bird chided, "and she did make an excellent point. You could have just given his things to the guards, but you didn't think of that did you?" the phoenix questioned smugly. "Which is further proof that you don't think or know everything and that you need help." Fawkes nipped him hard on the ear.

Albus again winced but did not disagree.

"However, I do know one thing for certain," Fawkes carried on his earlier line of conversation blithely, "you need to tell Harry. You need to tell Harry the truth, the complete and entire truth." The bird fixed Albus with a green and golden stare. "If you love him, as I know that you do, you will tell him the truth. You will tell him why you are trying to read his Ministry files. You will work to regain his trust. You will treat him like the adult that his is. Yet, above all," the Phoenix finished, staring at Dumbledore with such a fiery look that the headmaster was taken back at the sentiment, "you will show him how much he means to you."

* * *

**_Saint Ottery, Lovegood Home: July 30th, 1996_**

Luna Lovegood's crystalline eyes stared at the smooth surface of the glass. Her usually sing-song but now serious voice whispered two words, and she waved her hand. Instantly, an image of a young man with pitch-black hair and emerald eyes appeared in the once blank glass. The boy, or rather young man, was in a room. It looked to be his bedroom, and he was lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. Every few seconds, he glanced at the clock on his bedside table.

Apparently, Harry Potter was not patiently awaiting midnight, not that Luna really expected that he would. But the teenager's impatience didn't really register with her, for she was far to preoccupied.

'Where is she?' Luna pondered as she stared at the image on the seeing-glass. 'Argent should be there by now.' A worried thought consumed her mind, 'What if she doesn't make it? It's ten to midnight, and she should be there by now.' Another worrisome idea occurred to Luna, 'What if something has happened to her?'

Her eyes widened as her mind began to process the implications of that statement. A feeling of panic rose up inside her. 'What if she was attacked? What if she's dead? What if someone took the amulet--'

However, Luna's panic was short-lived, for in the mirror, she saw Harry sit up and cautiously approach his window. He pulled his holly wand from his pocket and crept forward, only to jump back as a large, fluffy ball of grey feathers shot through the opening at top speed. He tensed for a moment, almost firing a spell, but then relaxed as he realized it was only an owl.

It was only Argent, though Harry didn't know that was her name.

Luna breathed a heavy sigh of relief and let out a laugh of triumph. They were going to make it. Now, all that was left was for Harry to open the package and for midnight to arrive.

'Then, as they say,' the girl thought giddily, 'it's show time.'

* * *

**_Over Surrey: July 30th, 1996_**

It was minutes to midnight, and Argent had to hurry. The stormy grey owl beat her wings faster, attempting to gain speed. She had to hurry, or she would not make it. Time was of the essence.

She swooped and soared over the rows of houses, searching for the correct one. She passed over row after row, and she screeched in surprise as she almost flew head first into a shiny, shimmering barrier. A ward.

The bird attempted to hover as her mind went through various scenarios of bypassing the barrier. After several frantic moments, Argent finally decided to simply fly straight through it. The worst that could possibly happen is that she would smack into it beak first.

Taking the owl version of a deep breath, she went directly into the ward and right through. She hooted in triumph and headed for an open and lit window. She beat her wings, and with a burst of speed, she entered the opening, surprising the human boy that was currently occupying the bedroom on the other side. The human male whirled around in surprise, a piece of long wood instantly appearing in his hand. It took his brain several seconds to realize that the invader was not a Dark Lord but was in fact a large, grey owl. He grinned with clear relief.

"Hello there," he called to Argent, approaching her perch on his bed. Or at least, that is what Argent assumed at any rate. "Do you have something for me?"

She ruffled her feathers and bobbed her head as an affirmative.

"Well," he stated with a laugh, glancing at the clock. "You are a bit early. It won't be midnight for another two minutes." He paused for a moment. "Wait a second; I thought the Order said that they weren't going to owl packages." He eyed Argent suspiciously. "Tonks said that she would give my gifts to me tomorrow when she came for guard duty." He again gazed at the owl. "Unless you are from someone not in the Order."

Argent hooted as if to say yes.

"Are you from someone I know at school?" he questioned.

Another affirmative hoot.

"From the DA?"

Argent hooted again, this time a bit more forcefully as she was becoming tired of this guessing game. She had a schedule to keep, after all.

"Alright then." The human gently removed the package from her leg and then carried her over to the watering dish. "Help yourself."

However, Argent didn't. Instead she flew back over to the envelope the human had just removed from her leg.

'Open it,' she thought to the human. 'You need to open this now.'

Somehow, as if by magic, the human's green eyes flicked to her, and he nodded. He smiled gently and approached.

"Hey, girl." He reached forward and stroked her feathers. "You really want me to open this, don't you?"

Argent hooted once more in reply.

The human nodded his head and chuckled. "Fine. I will." In the background, he heard the clock downstairs clime midnight.

He removed the paper from the end of the envelope and turned it over, dumping out its contents. Just as the clock struck for the final time, half of a swirling, blue amulet fell from the envelope onto his awaiting hand.

The second he touched the warm stone, his eyes widened in sudden recognition, but it was too late. He didn't even have time to react as his senses were overloaded by the brilliant light and fathomless warmth emanating from the object. His emerald eyes rolled back into his head; he sank to the floor and was drawn into blissful darkness.

Sitting on his bed, taking in the whole scene, Argent the owl hooted once. She stared at the now unconscious boy, who was currently laying in a crumbled heap on the floor. Then, she flew out the window and back to her mistress, her mission complete.

* * *

AN: Expect some twists and turns in the next few chapters. Everything is not how it appears. Some of the "bad guys" might not actually be bad. They might just be trying to make the best of a bad situation._  
__  
To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby_ for the beta and Make Way for Baby (online) for helping with name meanings.

_Chapter __Eleven: A Gate, a Castle, a Hat, and a Portrait_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**05/31/08**


	12. A Gate, a Hat, a Castle, and a Portrait

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: A Gate, a Hat, a Castle, and a Portrait**

**_Unknown, The Throne Room: July 31st, 1996_**

"Why haven't you found it yet?" a cold voice demanded, sending chills up the spines of all those present. A menacing figure rose from his seat and towered over his subjects. "You have let me down, my followers." He spoke softly, belying his growing rage, "I am so very disappointed." He actually smiled then, but it was filled only with malice. He casually strolled to one of his cowering servants, running spidery fingers in a serpentine line down the woman's back.

"Tut tut, Narcissa." He pulled his fingers lightly through her downy, blonde hair. "I expected more from you. When I gave you this assignment, I actually expected that you would yield results. I actually believed that you would find clues to the Gate's whereabouts, but all you have brought me are conjectures and hints." He fisted his fingers in her hair, roughly pulling her head up. Blood-red eyes gazed into midnight blue. "Do not think that I will let you go unpunished?" He left the comment hanging as he released her and moved to the next follower.

Yet, just as he approached the man, he swiftly turned back, throwing a curse at the still cowering woman. "_Crucio_!" he said it nonchalantly, as though he was merely commenting on the weather, blooded eyes watching as she writhed in pain. However, even as agony coursed through her veins, she dare not scream.

Tom Riddle smiled.

He casually twirled his wand through his spidery fingers as he focused once more on his male follower. "Augustus, my good man," Voldemort hissed with pleasure. "I hope that your research has been more productive." He strolled back to his throne, resuming his seat.

"Yes, my Lord," the Death Eater responded with sufficient submission, not standing but kneeling on the cold stone floor. "We have discovered much about the Gate's properties, Sire," he answered smoothly, praying that he would please his master.

"Really?" Voldemort looked faintly interested, sitting straighter on his throne. His serpent familiar, Nagini, slithered up the arm and looped herself around his neck. She hissed softly and somewhat pleasantly, rubbing her head on his cheek.

"And what exactly have you discovered?" the Dark Lord asked before turning his face back to his familiar hissing gently to her. She inclined her head and slithered down to the floor.

"According to the ancient text that we… **borrowed**…" Augustus Rookwood hesitated with the word, knowing that his master never had them do anything as crass as stealing, at least according to the snake. "The Gate's powers are mostly temporal and spatial in nature."

He paused, waiting for his lord's approval to continue. The cold from the stone floor was seeping up his legs, and he fought to keep his teeth from chattering. His deep and fearful eyes focused on Nagini as she slithered closer. However, he heaved a sigh of relief when she turned and went to another Death Eater.

Voldemort nodded with interest, eyes gleaming. "Go on," he allowed smugly, flicking his fingers in a gesture of continuance. He idly watched his beloved Nagini slither to Narcissa, continuing his follower's punishment.

"Yes, my Lord." Rookwood bowed his head, lanky hair swinging forward to hide his eyes and his pockmarked face. "We have discovered that the Gate is in effect a doorway through time itself. Additionally…"

From the side, another follower watched intently, memorizing all that was said. His ears taking in everything. Every nuisance of voice, every pause in speaking.

'Wherever this Gate is,' the dark man thought to himself, 'the Dark Lord desires it greatly.' Secret and hidden thoughts ran through his mind, carefully concealed behind his defensive barriers. His blood chilled as he briefly remembered the supposed powers of the artifact. 'With such a thing in the Dark Lord's hands, he could rule us for all eternity. He could re-write history. He could change the past, alter the future.' The man trembled in fear, not of Voldemort as he currently was but of Voldemort as he could be, black eyes widening with untold horror. 'I must warn Albus.'

"Indeed?" Voldemort stated more to himself than to Rookwood. "Most excellent." His red gaze fixed on Augustus. "You have done well, my servant. For that you shall be rewarded." The Dark Lord smiled with pleasure, and it was a sickening expression. "Remain after I have dismissed the others," he finished, not naming what the reward would be so that the other followers could merely speculate.

His eyes flicked back to the still writhing Narcissa Malfoy, and he continued to watch for a long moment. The Dark Lord waved his hand, and the _Cruciatus _curse finally ended. Once more, he left his throne and strode toward the shivering woman. He stood directly above her for several moments as she fought through the linger pain.

"Well, now, **my** Narcissa," he stated smoothly, smug in his lordship over her. "You are looking a bit unwell." He laughed at his own joke. "Perhaps this will teach you to not fail me." He gazed at her fiercely, running his fingers through her hair again. "I do not take failure lightly, pet. You would do well to remember that.

Narcissa's dazed eyes looked around, eventually finding her Lord, who was still towering over her. She fought the haze that was surrounding her mind, trying to answer her master.

And finally, she succeeded. "Yes, my master."

"One final thing, my pet," He bent down and pulled the blonde by her chin so she would look at him. "You will find what I have asked of you, Narcissa. You will surely regret it if you do not." He bent closer and whispered quietly into her ear, her blue eyes widening in terror. He caressed her golden hair as one would stroke a dog and backed away. He growled and stood, releasing his hold on the woman.

The Dark Lord turned to address his Death Eaters. "You will find it. **You must find it!**" Voldemort added fiercely, making his servants cower closer to the ground. "You must find it and bring it to me." The very air seemed to tremble with fear, but Tom Riddle spoke his next words with great calm.

"I will have the Phoenix Gate, or I will have your heads," he stated very slowly, enunciating clearly. "And I can assure that you will most definitely not like your final hours on this Earth." He hissed menacingly, gaze flickering from one follower to the next. He prowled around, weaving in between his servants. He stalked by each and every one, searching for a single hint of any number of nameless sins.

"And do not think for a minute of keeping the Gate for yourself," the Dark Lord continued, his cool voice full of malice. "I guarantee you that even with such a powerful artifact, you will be no match for me."

High, cold laughter rang out, sending shivers to all those present. Only a great fool would now think to keep the Gate. For nothing short of a miracle from the Great Maker could save such a person from the Dark Lord's wrath.

"Now go," Voldemort's order resounded through the air.

Within in seconds, all of the gathered Death Eaters except Rookwood bowed one last time and fled for their lives. All of them would spend nearly every waking moment searching for either more information about the Gate or the Gate itself so that they could present their findings to their serpent-like master.

Well, that is all, save one. Indeed, the man with the darkest eyes… well, he would spend his time frantically searching for the Gate. But by his very life, it would never go to Tom Riddle.

Yet, little did he or the rest of the Death Eaters know, they would find the Phoenix Gate in the most unexpected of places.

* * *

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, The Entrance Hall: The Same Day_**

Dominic Boyd, or Dominic de Dorée as he was truly called, was having a fantastic day. First, his assortment of grindylows and other creatures had arrived precisely on time, which was rather unusual actually. Second, he again had had the opportunity to talk to the feisty female Auror while she was scoping out the defenses of the castle. Third, he was still at Hogwarts less than a week after his hiring, which meant that Dumbledore was still unaware of his true nature. Or that the Hat had told on him, and Dumbledore just didn't care. Yet, given what Dom knew about wizards in general, the last was highly unlikely. Fourth, he had successfully completed his lesson plans for both the first and second-years, quite an accomplishment given the small amount of time he had had to prepare them. Fifth, tonight he was going to finally have the opportunity to sneak to the Sorting Hat's secret room and speak with the delightfully sarcastic Hat.

All in all, Dom could not help but hum to himself as he merrily strolled through the Entrance Hall of the castle on his way to lunch. He smiled brilliantly as he entered the professor's side door into the Great Hall and approached the teacher's table. Already seated, a number of his colleagues waved as he drew near.

"How are you on this fine day, Dom?" Filius Flitwick asked cheerfully. "I don't believe we saw you at breakfast."

"I am fine. Er… no, I was not at breakfast," Dom answered pleasantly as he sat himself between Poppy and Sybill. "My shipment of creatures arrived, so I have been sorting through them all morning," he added as he helped himself to the food.

"What sort of creatures?" Pomona Sprout asked with interest.

"Two grindylows, a couple of hinkypunks, three kappas, a few will-o-wisps, a kelpie," Dom responded evenly, pausing for breath. However, he couldn't continue his listing for a misty voice interrupted him.

"My crystal scrying told me to beware Dark creatures. Perhaps the warning was directed to you?" Sybill Trelawney entered into the conversation with her usual flightiness, blinking her large eyes rapidly.

Pomona looked slightly annoyed by the interruption, but the vampire only smiled. He secretly liked the Divination professor, for she possessed a secretly sly mind underneath all of the flightiness. He suspected that it was all a cover to hide behind, though for whatever purpose he had no idea. He simply grinned and nodded at her statement, secretly desiring to know what went on inside of her head.

Across from him, Archimedea Vector snorted, and Minerva made a face. But as Dom's silvery gaze lingered on the Transfiguration teacher, he came to the sudden realization that Minerva McGonagall could actually see past Trelawney's façade. The wily and stern teacher was only keeping up the act for everyone else's benefit. Dominic filed this startling revelation away in his mind for further consideration. He turned back to his breakfast, praying for a few minutes of quiet.

Apparently, Dom's prayer was answered because soon afterwards the talk slowed, and the professors focused on their meals. During the brief lull, the vampire glanced around the table, noting that there was only one empty seat. He flicked his eyes around, attempting to discern who was absent, but his attention once more turned to the increasing talk when he was asked another question.

"What other kinds of creatures are you going to cover this year, Dom?" inquired Erimentha Rosetta, one of the Ancient Runes teachers, trying to draw the newest professor back into the conversation.

Dom paused for a moment to consider. "The usual: Dementors, Merfolk, Banshees, Veela, werewolves, and vampires."

Deep inside, the man's heart ached. It pained him to have to consider himself and other sentient beings as creatures. But that was exactly what most wizards thought them to be: creatures not people.

"I think that I will cover zombies, if I have time and maybe a few classes of elementals," he went on with a slight pause. "I am just not sure how much we will actually get to this semester. I have to see what they know to begin with. I dare say we might have to review quite a bit."

The other professors nodded their heads in understanding; there was no telling how much the Defense students actually knew about the subject due to the previous and rather inept professors. For all the current staff knew, the students might not even understand the basic principals of the topic.

"Well," Minerva commented, her grey eyes glinting with faint anger, "I'd say that the second-years will know next to nothing. You'll probably just have to cover everything with them." She paused, considering. "The third-years should have a basic understanding of the subject but probably not much past that. Fourth year and above should be better off. They would have had Professor Lupin, so they will have a basic grounding." She smiled fondly at the remembrance of her former student as a professor.

"Professor Lupin?" Dom asked curiously. "Ah, yes. Remus Lupin. He was the teacher three years ago," he commented in sudden remembrance. "He left quite good notes on what they had covered. Though, come to think of it, he is the only one that left plans on the material covered," the vampire added after a minute.

For some strange reason, the rest of the professors exchanged dark looks.

"Well, he would be the only one to do that," Minerva explained gently. "Out of the last five teachers: two are dead, both servants of Voldemort," she stated the word as though it was a curse.

Surprisingly, none of the staff members winced, save Hagrid flinched. Not even Sybill or the child-like Amanda Woodard, the Muggle Studies professor.

Minerva carried on after a moment, "One of them was administered the Dementor's Kiss."

Here, everyone shuddered.

"Of the remaining three. Well, two are now in Saint Mungo's. One with a permanently damaged mind, and the other is still recovering from her… injuries." The strict Transfiguration professor actually smiled then, looking quite satisfied.

Not surprisingly, so did the rest of the staff. Even Binns and Dumbledore, who up to this point hadn't seemed to be listening to the conversation.

"Then, there was Remus," Minerva commented with a grin tugging at her lips. "He resigned due to his condition. He feared that he might harm the students," she concluded wistfully, obviously wishing that the werewolf was the Defense professor in place of Dom.

"Interesting," the brunet stated after a few heartbeats, not knowing what else to say. "I had heard that the position was cursed, but I did not actually believe it," he added more to himself than to the others. He glanced around, noting the odd expressions that formed on the other teachers' faces.

Filius Flitwick chuckled at the comment. "Oh, don't worry, my boy. I am sure that you'll do fine." He winked at Dom and smiled. The tiny Charms teacher was quite fond of the newest professor, not that he wasn't fond of everybody, and dearly hoped that he would break the curse of the Defense job.

"Of course, he will," Poppy Pomfrey added defensively. She, too, was becoming rather fond of the new teacher. He was easy to talk to, very personable, and generally seemed to enjoy life. The fact that he was quite good looking did not diminish from his appeal.

"Sure," Hagrid put in cheerfully, "I'm sure that yeh'll do fine." The half-giant laughed, "As long as yer not a Death Eater or Ministry worker or some kinda Dark creature."

Dom hesitated for a fraction of a second, not liking where this conversation was going. "Well, I am sure that the headmaster can attest to the fact that I am not," he answered carefully, noting Dumbledore's attention focus on him. He began to occlude fiercely as two twinkling eyes looked at him, hiding his thoughts behind a wall of mists.

The headmaster smiled bemusedly. "Yes, not to worry about our new friend. He is Sorting Hat approved," Albus added with a slight chuckle.

"Well, that's settled then," Poppy stated forcefully. "If the Sorting Hat likes him, then so should we. It hasn't been wrong yet." She turned to Dom and favored him with a grin and a bat of her eyelashes.

"But of course," Filius commented.

He was about to continue when the main door to the Great Hall opened and a figure staggered in. The man was in robes of black, but they were of an odd design that pulled at Dom's memory, though he couldn't remember where he had seen them off the top of his head. The vampire noticed, even from a distance, the thin line of blood that ran down the man's face and onto his collar. He also noted the various scratches and other marks on the wizard's skin, as well as his constant trembling. He had obviously been subject to repeated curses, most likely including the _Cruciatus_ curse from the looks of it.

Dom gazed at the man. And his eyes lit with sudden recognition. This was the missing member of the faculty: Severus Snape.

Within in seconds of Severus' rather dramatic entrance, both Dumbledore and Minerva were on their feet, moving to intercept him. The two practically ran to the Potion master's side, quite a feat for someone Albus' age, hurriedly whispering to him when they arrived. The other teachers, including Dom, all rose to their feet but didn't dare move from the table, though Poppy Pomfrey looked like she wanted to. All of them simply stared at the man, gazing into his fathomless, black eyes.

After a moment of quick murmuring to the headmaster, Severus nodded and hobbled out the door. The other two followed in his wake. The rest of the teachers stared after the three for a moment before resuming their seats, whispering quietly to one another. But Dom did not join in the speculation. Instead, he simply continued to stare.

After ten minutes, he finally abandoned his meal and the other professors, most of whom were looking at him like they didn't quite know what to say. He returned to his office, trying to find respite. Nevertheless, Dom could not help but shudder at the memory of what he had seen reflected in the Potion master's eyes.

* * *

**_Hogwarts, Outside the Sorting Hat's Secret Room: The Same Day_**

Later that evening after spending several hours in conjecture about the Potion master's sudden arrival and his shaky appearance, Dominic casually sauntered through the castle. Anyone who saw the Defense professor, namely Filch and his cat, believed that the man was merely going for a nighttime stroll, just meandering around. However, Dom had a clear destination in mind.

He moved sedately down the third floor corridor on the left-hand side, carefully searching for a particular portrait. His eyes glanced at each picture as he passed, which was actually quite a few. Just as he was beginning to become rather frustrated, the vampire noted a semi-hidden alcove with a portrait inside. Silvery eyes lit up with excitement; he had found exactly what he had been looking for. It… or rather her.

Dom gazed up at a woman with long hair that was so dark it was almost blue and eyes that were like sapphires mixed with silver. She wore robes of flowing black and blue like the ocean at midnight. And her pale skin gleamed with silver flecks, adding a startling contrast to her attire. Something about this lady was vaguely familiar, though the man couldn't really tell what.

A smile lit her heart-shaped face when she noticed the vampire. "Well, hello. We have been expecting you." She winked at him and swung open.

"Thank you, my lady," Dom stated as he walked through the opening and into the Sorting Hat's secret room.

He glanced around, studying the area. It was a nice room, tastefully decorated in blues, greens, and blacks with golden trim along the walls and the furniture. There was a grey stone fireplace on the left-hand wall and several portraits as well. Almost the entire right side and back walls were covered in multiple floor-to-ceiling bookcases, all of which were completely filled. But for the life of him, Dominic couldn't figure out how the Sorting Hat would be able to turn the pages as it had no hands, much less read as it had no eyes.

Pondering this mystery, the vampire seated himself in a deep blue armchair near the fire to wait for the Hat. Yet, his thoughts were interrupted by a warm presence in his mind, the castle's way of saying hello. He was even further disturbed when there was a flash of flame mid-air, and Fawkes the phoenix appeared with the Sorting Hat clasped in his talons.

"Tell me, my friend, are you familiar with the Order of the Phoenix?" the Hat began without preamble as Fawkes set it on the table next to Dom's chair. The bird squawked happily and disappeared in another burst of flame, going to perform sentry duty in Dumbledore's office.

"Yes, it is an old order that fights evil." Dom thought for a moment. "Originally, it was neither allied with Light nor Dark, but it did have members that were both. It simply worked against evil, but in recent centuries, it has been predominantly Light since most wizards now believe the Dark to be evil."

"Yes, that is true. However, both you and I know better," the Hat stated.

Dom felt a gently brush of power in the room and realized that it was Hogwarts castle. Apparently, she also didn't agree with recent wizarding views.

The Hat smiled to the castle but turned back to Dom. "Did you learn all this from the amulet?" it inquired.

"Some, but most I knew through rumors and my contacts," the vampire answered. "I believe that Albus Dumbledore is the current head."

"Quite right. Albus has led the Order for almost seven decades," the Hat spoke, fondly mentioning the headmaster. "And though he is a mostly Light Wizard, he also doesn't agree that Dark means evil. He has seen far too much horror in this world to believe that silly sentiment," it added sadly. "He's a good man. Yet, he just doesn't know what to do anymore. No matter what he chooses, someone will suffer."

Dom heard a mournful echo and recognized that it was the castle. Words suddenly entered his mind.

"_He just cannot win_," a female voice whispered. "_Either the other wizards or his beloved student, Harry, will have to suffer. And it is not Albus' fault_." She added, "_The other wizards, the same ones who cower when someone even names Voldemort, they could end the cycle. They could help save everyone. Yet, they will not. They are far too selfish and afraid_." The castle sounded angry and yet filled with shame.

"True," the Hat added, "but instead, they lay the burden on others. On children."

Dom listened to the exchange, silently agreeing. The entire mess with Voldemort could have been avoided entirely had the wizards been brave enough to stand up for themselves. The wizarding world was many and Voldemort's followers few. Should the world unite, it could easily overtake the Dark Lord.

All three: vampire, Hat, and castle lingered in silence for several moments, thinking about what could have easily been avoided. However, Dominic soon broke the quiet.

"Is the rest of the faculty in the Order as well?" he asked, shifting in his chair.

"Most," it answered, the castle adding in her three Knuts worth also. "Minerva, Filius, Poppy, Pomona." It began to list off the various members, "Sybill, Rubeus, Archimedea, Amanda, Irma, Erimentha, and Severus are all members."

"Severus Snape?" the vampire questioned, his eyes wide. "I thought that he was a secret supporter of the Dark Lord."

"Well, technically, I suppose you could say that." Both the Hat and castle seemed taken back by Dom's pronouncement. "But, in truth, Severus is a dedicated member of the Order. Although he is in Voldemort's inner circle, he is a spy for us," it added quite smugly.

"So Severus is a spy for the Order of the Phoenix?" Dom queried, face alit with sudden understanding, and his hand rubbed his chin in thought. "However, I bet that Voldemort thinks that Snape is spying for him on the headmaster."

The Hat smiled. "You are a clever one, aren't you? You'd make a good Ravenclaw or maybe even a Slytherin." It let the comment linger. "But yes, Severus is a spy, and Voldemort thinks that he is spying for him. However, I know better. Severus is most assuredly on our side."

"Well, I know that he is," Dom stated carefully. "Considering who he used to be and who he can be again, if he lets go of his bitterness. Though, most of it is simply a cover to protect himself from the Dark Lord."

"Oh, you picked up on that as well, did you?" the Hat commented with surprise. "Many do not realize that Severus is the way he is because of his lingering bitterness, because he cannot forget his own misfortunes. They simply think that he is cold and hateful. They do not realize that he suffers as well." The Hat seemed truly saddened. "Yet, I suppose it is better this way. They would know he was a spy if they realized that most of his supposed hatred was a lie."

Dom felt a sudden brush of energy in the room, the castle was again agreeing with the Hat.

The Hat, in turn, shook its head… er… flap. "I agree," it whispered quietly to the castle.

There was another brush of energy.

"Oh, right. Yes, we mustn't forget about that," it answered before turning back to Dom, "I know that you have more questions about Severus, Dumbledore, and the Order, but those must wait. There is something else or rather some**one** else that you must meet first."

"Who?" the vampire queried curiously.

Regardless, neither the Hat nor castle answered. Both simply directed Dom's attention to a previously unnoticed portrait along the far wall. It featured an elderly man, who was wearing some of the most bizarre robes the vampire had ever seen. Dom walked across the room and smiled at the painted man, belatedly realizing that it had actually been listening to the conversation all along.

"Why, hello," the elderly man stated cheerfully. "And who might you be?" he asked pleasantly.

"Dominic Bo… Dominic de Dorée," the vampire gave his real name and not his alias. "I am currently the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Something about the man in the portrait was odd, strange but not unpleasant. He strongly reminded Dom of a cross between the best of Albus Dumbledore and that crazy Auror, Mad-Eye Moody.

"Truly?" the painted man inquired, "I thought that most wizards of this age did not like vampires."

Dom looked at the man shrewdly. He definitely reminded the vampire of both Albus and Mad-Eye as he was very perceptive.

"They do not. However, most do not realize that I am a vampire," he answered truthfully.

The portrait looked saddened by his pronouncement. "Such prejudice is inexcusable," he stated, his painted dark-brown eyes blazing. "How far my brethren have fallen. In my day, vampires and wizards were allies, friends." He shook his head.

"I know," Dominic stated simply as it was nothing but the truth. "But those days are long gone." He gazed at the portrait intently, remembering that he did not yet know the man's name. "Oh, I beg your forgiveness, good sir, but I do not seem to know your name."

"You do not know who I am, my boy?" the portrait asked with obvious mirth and mischief. He actually laughed.

Dom rolled his eyes at being called "boy" but didn't take offense as he knew that the picture hadn't meant it that way, though he did have to inwardly laugh at the painted man. For the sake of the Maker, he was fifteen hundred years old, hardly a boy in most meanings of the word. He had been alive since before the founding of Hogwarts. He had lived since the fall of the Roman Empire. The Western half at that. He had been alive since the time of King Arthur, Lady Morgana le Fey, and Lord Merlin himself, though Dom had been but a child when the great archmagus and his friendly rival had died. He still remembered a time when wizards were friends with the very peoples that they now considered to be creatures or monsters, when there was no fear between magical beings.

The vampire titled his head, staring at the old man. "Forgive me, but… no, I do not."

For some bizarre reason, he actually felt sad at that declaration. He felt as though he should know this man, like he was some forgotten friend from a time long ago.

The elderly man smiled, and Dom was forcefully reminded of his earlier thought. This man was indeed an odd mixture of the headmaster and the crazy Auror with a few hints of Filius Flitwick thrown in for good measure.

"Well, I would not be too worried about that," the old man admitted. "Nobody seems to remember me these days. In fact, there was a young man who accidentally stumbled in here a few years ago. Or maybe it was decades; my memory is not what it used to be," he admitted the last in a bit of an undertone like it was a great secret. "Anyway, he came in looking all confused. He kept asking if I had seen Remus and Sirius, which of course confused me as I thought he meant the one from Roman legend and the star. Eventually we worked out the confusion, but I had not seen his friends. He thanked me for my time and promised to return, but he never did. He probably could not remember how to get back." The man chortled, clearly enjoying his reminisces. "I wonder where he is now."

However, Dom simply stared at him blankly. 'Where on Earth had this come from?' he thought to himself, quite baffled. Silvery eyes looked at the picture suspiciously. 'Perhaps he is just having me on. I think that this elder is just trying to fool me.' He gazed at the man for a few more seconds, deep in thought. 'What is this? Some kind of test?' the vampire was about to voice this idea when the elder interrupted.

"Have you guessed it yet?"

The portrait man smiled that mysterious and infuriating smile of his, clearly believing that Dom's silence was attributed to him trying to figure out the man's identity. He continued to smile bemusedly, and infuriatingly in Dom's opinion, as the vampire struggled to figure out who he was speaking to. After several minutes, having finally begun to reach the limit of the vampire's patience, the painted man sighed.

He sat up straighter in his painted chair, almost knocking over his staff in the process, and threw his hands rather dramatically into the air for effect. "I am Merlin."

* * *

AN: There is a time gap in my updates in this part due to the release of _Half-Blood Prince_. I had to read through and notice all the "improvements" (author cringes) to canon that J.K. had made. Though, in all honesty, I have to say that this is my least favorite book. It makes Harry look like an immature idiot, who can't see past his own prejudices and grow as a person. It seems like he has back-slid since book four and has gone from an almost adult back to a child (grrr… author steps off her soap box).

In all honesty, I am barely incorporating any of _HBP_. The book just annoys me far too much. I will put in a few things, but I am keeping my own storyline. The new Defense teacher annoyed me (hehe! spoiler), so I am definitely keeping Dom (sighs dreamily). The Potions professor annoyed me, too (winks).

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby_ for the beta.

_Chapter __Twelve: The Return of the Silver Serpent_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**06/01/08**


	13. The Return of the Silver Serpent

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: The Return of the Silver Serpent**

**_Number Four, Privet Drive: July 31st, 1996_**

"I am Salazar Slytherin."

And that statement was nothing but the truth.

'Yet, for some bizarre reason, this all seems to make a strange sort of sense,' a young man with black hair and emerald eyes thought to himself after his startling declaration. 'First, I am a parselmouth. You can't really be more Salazar-like than that. Second,' he added, ticking off his fingers, 'the Sorting Hat did want to place me in Slytherin, another big hint. Third, I was actually sad when the Basilisk died; it was like killing an old friend.' The teenager sighed then, wistfully staring off into space. He rubbed his temples and put his head in his hands.

'I really wish I could have saved her,' he resumed after a moment. 'She was meant to protect the school, not attack the students. Though, I am quite confused as to how she ended up under the girl's toilet. I know for a fact that that wasn't the Chamber of Secrets. At least, not **my** Chamber of Secrets. Indoor plumbing wasn't installed in the school until long after I had already died.' He paused to puzzle over the mystery for a moment.

Harry Potter contemplated this conundrum before finally deciding that he would not be able to solve it without investigating further. He sighed then and continued his earlier train of thought.

'Not that being Salazar is necessarily a bad thing. I have always had this strange fondness for silver and green.' The young man grinned and chuckled to himself. 'All told, it should have been pretty obvious that I had some sort of connection to Slytherin.'

He exhaled very slowly but spoke aloud this time, "Why does this sort of thing always happen to me?"

However, the young man received no answer, not that he was really expecting one, other than a hoot from his owl Hedwig. The snowy bird looked at him disdainfully, upset because he had woken her from a sound sleep, before closing her amber eyes and drifting back into the land of dreams. Harry looked at his familiar for a moment before frowning and lying back on his bed.

This was just not his day.

First, the teenager had woken up, only to find himself in a heap on the floor. He had sat up stiffly, having spent the entire night on the hard wood, attempting to figure out why by Circe he had slept there. Then, he had remembered the night before: the strange amulet, the flash of light, the phoenix song. The returned memories.

Harry Potter had remembered that he had once been Salazar Slytherin in a past life. But not just any past life… his last life. The one directly before his current one, no stages in between. Harry had a direct link to one of the Darkest wizards in history; he had a direct connection to the supposed betrayer of Hogwarts. He had a direct relation to one of the most powerful and feared men in history.

Harry Potter was still reeling from the ramifications. And the only thing he could really focus on currently was how much his head was aching from the irony of it all.

He, the Golden Child of the Glorious House of Gryffindor, was the sly and crafty Silver Serpent himself. Fate must really be laughing at him right now, and undoubtedly, she had it in for him as well.

And it was entirely the Gate's fault.

Green eyes narrowed as Harry turned to look at the shimmering, blue amulet that was innocently sitting on his nightstand. The selfsame talisman that had brought this revelation of his true nature. The powerful and old artifact was the exact one he had discovered as Salazar and had been sent as Harry. The very same amulet that had earned its name from both the phoenix engraved on it and its gate-like powers in regards to time, and a number of other things.

The Phoenix Gate.

Harry mock-glared at the swirling object, the talisman glowing brighter as it recognized his scrutiny. It shifted in color from a light, sky blue to a deep cobalt and back to an aqua color. Light danced across the phoenix carving. For a moment, Harry swore that he saw it move, that he saw the bird ruffle its delicately engraved feathers and wink at him.

The teenager turned his eyes away, remembering a piece of advice from Arthur Weasley long ago: "_Never trust anything that can think for itself _**if you can't see where it keeps its brain**."

Yet, he quickly dispelled the thought. He knew the Gate was nothing but well-intentioned and was an artifact of the neutral part of the spectrum. Even if it, like the Sorting Hat, was too smart for its own good sometimes.

Harry stared at it for a few moments before he began to feel a strange tickling in his mind. It was like someone was poking him in the back of the head, though he definitely knew that no one was. But at the same time, it felt like one of Molly Weasley's many lectures. It was like someone, or something, wanted him to stop worrying.

"Alright," the reborn Slytherin finally spoke, his eyes on the amulet. "Alright, I will stop brooding. Happy now?"

The Gate glowed brighter, and Harry scowled before suddenly smiling. The amulet just seemed to have that effect on people. It could make anyone feel better… well, unless their name happened to be Godric Gryffindor, but that was a story for another time.

Unexpectedly, Harry laughed, finally losing the battle against the absurdity and irony of the entire situation. He was Salazar Slytherin. He was brooding over being Slytherin. He was being silently lectured by an object, of all things, for being broody. And now, he had just sulkily glared at said object.

Once again, Fate was toying with him.

'This is just not my day.' Harry glanced once again to the amulet and added, "Well, at least some good has come of it though. I remember my past now. I know that Siobhan is real and that she is reborn.' He paused for a moment before continuing. 'I know that my friends are once more alive and well. I have my life back, the life denied by Godric.' He again hesitated but smirked and went on, 'Plus, I know Occlumency now and Legilimency also. Those will be handy skills in my war against Tom and his minions. But I'll probably have to practice to refresh my skills.'

Unexpectedly, the young man was shaken from his bizarre musings due to an odd tingling in the back of his mind, but this time, it wasn't from the Gate. It took him a few seconds to recognize the sensation as it was one he hadn't experienced in his current life. It was the feeling those skilled in certain offshoots of Legilimency or Occlumency and with a natural Empathy gift, the ability to sense approaching auras of magical beings. A witch, in this case.

Harry quickly rolled out of his bed, grabbing his wand from its place on his bedside table, and cautiously approached his window. He was rather disconcerted as the aura felt familiar, but as he was so out of practice, Harry could not place it. The teenager moved to the glass and stood by the side, peeking out. He then smiled widely, grinning at the sight of bubblegum pink hair.

Tonks was standing at his front door.

* * *

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near the Defense Professor's Office: The Same Day_**

Three people were standing in the middle of the third floor corridor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The youngest male, a black man with an earring, looked on bemusedly at his companions from his position near a wall. The only female of the trio stood near him with her back turned, facing an older man. He, in turn, stood in the direct center of the hallway, staring at her.

"You went to see Potter earlier?" Moody asked, pausing mid-step. His natural eye was narrowed, the other whirling about like mad.

Tonks smirked. "But of course. I had to deliver his birthday gifts."

All Moody could say to this revelation was, "Humph."

Both Tonks and Kingsley chuckled before continuing down the corridor.

"So," Shacklebolt queried after a moment as they approached the end of the hallway, "we're just going to do another walk about to check the internal wards? Nothing else?"

"Hm… yes, that's it," Alastor stated, coming out of his daze. "Just that." He turned to his colleagues, shifting back to his normal behavior. "I'll check out the section near the Hospital Wing." The other two smiled at this pronouncement, but Mad-Eye ignored them. "Kingsley will look at the wards in the dungeons, and Tonks will stay in this area." He looked at the other two fiercely. "Let's move people," he ordered with his usual gruffness.

The other two Aurors exchanged very bemused looks before complying. And soon, only Tonks was left in the corridor. She walked slowly around the corner and down the next hallway, visually and magically scanning the updated warding. She nodded absentmindedly as she observed the deep, red color of the wards as she scanned them.

'Good,' she noted, passing her wand over an area, 'it is exactly the right color.'

She briefly hesitated as she came to a spot that was very light red, more of a pink than anything else. The Auror tapped in with her finger a few times, feeling the quite weak tingle of magic and frowning. Idly, she made a mental note of its location, and she continued on, scanning automatically as her mind wandered elsewhere. She took a few more steps, shivering oddly, despite the fact that it was actually rather warm.

Sometimes, when Tonks was within an ancient building like Hogwarts, she would have this eerie feeling at the base of her spine. It was just a tingling along her back, but it was peculiar and only occurred in older structures. The older the building, the more prevalent the tingling. It felt almost like she was walking through a ghost, but it was more concentrated.

The Auror shivered again, stepping further down the corridor. She started when she heard an unusual sound just behind her, but she didn't turn around. Instead, the woman merely searched with her senses before going on her way, ignoring the fact that the sound was still there.

Tonks was rather used to bizarre noises, at any rate. They were even worse than the shivers she always seemed to have, mostly since the noises had no plausible explanation. Sometimes, it would sound like talking or maybe laughter. Sometimes, it just sounded like people moving or walking about. Whatever it was, Tonks seemed to be the only one who noticed. None of her companions or friends ever did; she had asked them before. It was almost like she was catching glimpses of the past, of people who had once been in the building and were now long dead and gone. People who were truly gone, leaving no ghost behind. It was echoes of what once was. Echoes only she could hear.

The Auror shook her head, dispelling her train of thought as she came to another weak spot in the wards. She repeated her earlier test and made another mental note before continuing with her task. The woman quickly but thoroughly went up and down each part of her section, checking on the wards before finally returning to her starting point near the Defense classroom. She approached the area swiftly and silently, loitering just outside before deciding to finally knock on the partially closed door.

"Enter," was the reply from within.

She stepped through the door and was about to speak when the man sitting behind a desk looked up. He smiled when he noticed her.

"Hello, Auror Tonks. It is good to see you. Is there anything I can do for you today?" He quickly stood up and came around to the front.

Tonks shook her head. "No, I've just finished checking the wards and decided to stop by since I was in the area."

Professor Boyd looked pleased by the pronouncement, but Tonks wasn't sure which part.

"Oh, did you find anything of interest?"

"Just a few weak points. I'll have Flitwick look over them," she said easily, coming up to him.

"Well, hopefully Filius can fix any problems you have found. I hear that he is excellent with that sort of thing," the Defense teacher replied, moving closer to Tonks and tilting his head down so that he could look at her better.

The Auror shrugged, noticing their closeness. "Yeah, he is. He actually set up wards in Ravenclaw dorms to let him know if when there's trouble. I remember this one time in my fourth year, a fight broke out between two older boys, and Flitwick was there within minutes. Nobody even had to summon him."

Professor Boyd looked impressed. "Establishing a ward that notifies you so quickly is very difficult." He glanced at his companion. "We will definitely be in good hands then."

"Yes," the woman stated in agreement.

Both lapsed into silence.

After a moment, the professor spoke again, "Was there anything else, Auror? I hope there is, for I do not want to leave quite yet." He inched closer. "It is really good to see you again, Lady Tonks." He gently took her hand, and instead of shaking it, he gently kissed the back.

Tonks blushed fiercely, her hand lingering in his. She quickly cast her mind about for another topic of conversation, hopefully one less embarrassing. Her purple eyes landed on the various papers on his desk.

"So what were you doing before I came in? Making lesson plans?" she asked curiously.

The man shifted somewhat on his feet, still holding on to her hand. "Er… well, no. You see, I was…"

"Yes?"

"I was looking at my Chocolate Frog Card Collection," Professor Boyd answered truthfully, avoiding Tonks' eye. He had truly been looking at the cards, one in particular. The one for La Muerte.

"Really? You collect those as well?" the Auror asked with more than a hint of excitement. "Most adults don't. A lot of my friends think I'm crazy for still doing it. Most people only keep their collections from childhood and don't bother to expand it."

"Yes… well, everyone needs a hobby, right? I just happen to like the cards." He gave an embarrassed grin. "I like history, so having pictorial biographies of famous people is simply perfect for me," he stated with a bit of awkwardness, mostly due to Tonks' tone.

"Hm… I just always liked collecting them. I don't really have a reason. It just gives me something to do. My cousin Si… my cousin used to collect also."

"Used to?" Boyd asked, noting her reluctance to name her cousin.

"Yeah, you see… he died," she answered faintly. "Very recently… he--"

The man inclined his head. "It is alright. I understand," he stated sympathetically.

Tonks sniffled before also nodding. The pair stood in awkward silence for a few heartbeats before the professor finally found the courage to speak again.

"So…" He cast his mind about for another topic. "Would you be interested in trading cards with me? I still do not have Arachne, Penelope of Ithaca, or the Necromancer Dorée."

Tonks smiled and blinked back moisture. "Sure. I have about a dozen of him. For some strange reason – especially since the card is so rare – well, lately every card I get seems to be him."

* * *

_Devon, Archimedes' Tower (Longbottom Manor): The Same Day_

Neville Longbottom sat quietly on his bed, flipping through the birthday gift Harry had sent him via his snowy owl earlier in the day. It was a Muggle book of plants and was filled with colored photos of various domestic and foreign species, their appearance, properties, and location.

The chubby wizard was absolutely enthralled by his gift. It was one of the few he had received today that he truly enjoyed. All the other presents had been given by well-meaning but completely oblivious relatives. They had gotten him things like Quidditch posters and equipment. They had gotten him things that they had thought he would like. Things that Frank, his father, would have liked at his age. Things that, if they truly knew him, they would have realized Neville would never need or use. He didn't even really like Quidditch. He only watched Gryffindor play to support his House and cheer on his friends.

His relatives had bought him those things because they thought he would like them, but he didn't. He had only smiled and thanked them, understanding that they didn't really know him at all. If they had, they would have bought him things like plants, pots, books on Herbology. They would have given him things like Harry had sent him, things like Luna's gift of a Wimble-womble plant. Things like all his friends had sent.

Neville sighed and looked up from his book, realizing that he was too caught up in his own thoughts to really focus on reading. From downstairs, he heard the laughter of his relatives, and it only caused him to sigh again. He had left his own birthday party early, a party sans his friends and filled with only relatives. And nobody had even realized. Not even his grandmother had noticed; she was too caught up in talking with her three sisters about some nonsense gossip. The same kind she insisted she could not tolerate, though she often indulged in it.

He shook his head as he heard more laughter waft through his door. They were far too busy to even note that he was gone, but Neville was used to this type of behavior. He had always been a disappointment to his family. He had never really been good enough for them, and that was the main reason he had so many problems. He had always been a burden on his family. He had always been the child passed around at family events, the one who nobody wanted to be around.

The one who was a failure.

Sometimes in the dead of night, when he was staring at his ceiling and trying to fall asleep, Neville would think on the fact that he was such a disappointment. He would recall why he wasn't worth half as much as his father, just as his Uncle Algie had once told him. He would remember how he shamed the family, just like Cousin Arielle had once said when she hadn't realized he was there. He would ponder how his grandmother really wished it had been him who was tortured and driven insane instead, just as she had confided to her older sister late one night when she thought Neville asleep and in bed.

And sometimes, when he was contemplating his total lack of worth, he would have this strange flickering in the back of his mind. The same feeling one had when trying to remember something really, really important. Sometimes, Neville would have this feeling and then have flashes of images. Images that for the life of him he could never place. Images of a castle, a sword, a lake, a smart-mouthed owl, a mysterious lady, a proud and regal man, a strange and giant stone, and great and wonderful and sometimes terrible magic.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Neville knew that these images were vitally important. Yet, for the life of him, he just couldn't remember why.

* * *

**_Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, The Third Floor Study: The Same Day_**

"What should we say?" Charlie asked as he leaned back into his chair. "That we wish he'd come back? That we're sorry? That we're suspicious of Dumbledore, too?"

"I don't know, Charlie," Bill said with exasperation. "All I do know is that I want my brother back. I want my favorite bookish, library fiend – outside of Hermione – back." He exhaled, his deep blue eyes closing. "I just want Percy back. I just… I need him back," he finished in a small voice.

Charlie leaned over, his hand covering that of his older brother and best friend. "I know. I need him back, too. It's just not the same without him." He looked around wistfully. "There's no one to save us from Mum's lectures. There's no one to spare us from Dad's Muggle obsession. There's no one to shield us from the twins' pranking. There's no one to play chess with Ronnie when nobody else will. There's no one else willing to have tea parties with Ginny, not that she does that anymore. There's no one to pick us up when we fall. There's--"

"--no one to hold us all together," the older brother concluded shakily.

"Yeah," his sibling added, running at tanned hand over his very tired face. "There's no middle. There is a beginning and an end, but there's no middle. The middle is what keeps everything together. It makes all the pieces fit. It keeps them safe and secure."

Bill nodded. Both lapsed into silence. The two just sat there, thinking over their lost brother for almost an hour before Charlie spoke again.

"What should we tell him, Bill?" he asked, his chocolate-brown eyes tight with worry.

The older man answered after a minute, "We should tell him that we miss him. That we need him. That we worry about Dumbledore and the Order and the war. That we can't lose him." He hesitated for a heartbeat, fighting back the tears that were threatening to come. "We should tell him the truth."

Charlie smiled faintly, looking at his sibling. "So we'll tell him that he's our brother and that nothing will ever change that."

Bill met his brother's gaze and grinned lightly. "Yes, that's exactly what we'll say."

* * *

**_Number Four, Privet Drive: The Same Day (Late Evening)_**

Harry stared at the letter in his hand, willing the writing on the parchment to actually make some kind of sense. After a few minutes, he exhaled heavily but continued to gaze at the paper. He turned it this way and that, right-side up and upside down. However, no matter what he did, he still couldn't quite comprehend what it was telling him.

It just didn't make any sense.

Dumbledore had written him a letter. Dumbledore had wished him a happy birthday. Dumbledore had sent him a birthday gift. Dumbledore had apologized for last year. Again. Dumbledore had apologized for the prophecy. Again. Dumbledore had apologized for Peachy the house-elf. Again.

Dumbledore was acting very strange.

"The headmaster is coming to see me in a week," Harry thought out loud, looking slightly shell-shocked.

On his bed, Fawkes the phoenix sat quietly, studying him with intent eyes. He cocked his head to one side, rubbing his beak with his wing in deep thought. Nevertheless, at Harry's statement, the phoenix sat up straighter.

"Of course, he is." The creature inclined his head to the side even further. "You have much to discuss with him, and we have much to discuss as well."

"Oh, so you can talk," Harry said, coming out of his shock. He was taking this revelation rather well, all things considered. "I have always suspected that you could."

Fawkes simply glared at him. "Don't change the subject."

Harry threw his hand up in defeat. "Yes, I know that we have much to discuss." He ran a hand through his hair. "Like the fact that I'm Salazar Slytherin. Like the reincarnation of the other Founders. Like the Headmaster's upcoming visit. What exactly does he want to discuss anyway?" he questioned, narrowing his very suspicious eyes.

Fawkes breathed out in a great snort. "That is between the two of you. I am not going to involve myself in this private matter any more than I need to be." The bird ruffled his feathers. "But as to the other things, you listed… well, they are all fair game."

Though Harry was not pleased by the phoenix's evasion, he nodded. He could understand why Fawkes was hesitant to involve himself further.

"Alright, then." He thought for a moment. "I want to talk about the fact that I'm Salazar. I mean, it is kind of ironic, isn't it? Me, Harry," he stated and tapped himself in the chest with his hand, "the supposed epitome of Gryffindorism is actually a reincarnation of Slytherin. Is it just Fate's way of having a laugh at the wizarding world?"

Fawkes smiled as much as possible when one possessed a beak. "You never know; it might just be." He chirped a laugh at the teenager's indignant snort. "In all honesty, it was because of Godric's treachery. His House is built on a lie. It was supposed to be built on his integrity, bravery, and honesty. However, he didn't truly have those qualities in the end." He idly flapped his wings and shifted on the bed, attempting to find a more comfortable position. The bird settled into the thin comforter.

"The Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor to…" Fawkes paused for an instant trying to find the right word. "Well, I guess counterbalance what Godric did. You were meant to bring integrity and honesty back into Gryffindor. And as you no doubt have noticed, they can be very judgmental and distrustful – bordering on hostile – to anything they perceive as not like themselves. They are much like Godric himself in that manner."

"Hmm… yes. Gryffindors tend to be like that, especially with anything related to Dark. Most of us, not including me, think that Dark equals evil. But that isn't the case." Harry paused, thinking it over as he absentmindedly rubbed his chin. "Wait a minute. You said that the Hat put me in Gryffindor to balance Godric, but I had the option to be a Slytherin," he stated in confusion.

"Yes, as did the other Founders. Yet, I think on an unconscious level you knew that you were needed in Gryffindor, so you chose that House instead." Fawkes again smiled. "Draco Malfoy's atrocious behavior was the last little push you needed to get into Gryffindor."

The reborn Founder laughed. "And it was quite a push. I just kept thinking '_not Slytherin_' since he was there. I didn't want to have him as a Housemate for seven years."

"Indeed."

Harry contemplated in silence before he raked his hand through his hair again. "Does this mean the other Founders also balanced Gryffindor?"

"It does," the phoenix confirmed. "Notice that both Rowena and Helga are now considered Gryffindors as well. As is Helga's husband, Edmund. Also, note that neither Quinn nor Siobhan are. Instead, they are now in the House of their closest friend. Siobhan went to Ravenclaw and Quinn to Slytherin."

The teenager gave a physical affirmative. "Yes, I did notice that." He bit his lip. "Was it the Sorting Hat's way of further equalizing?" He hesitated as the bird inclined his head. "Why were Siobhan and Quinn not in Gryffindor as well?"

"We – Hogwarts, the Sorting Hat, and I – didn't want to skew the scales too much in Gryffindors favor," Fawkes replied softly. "We wanted the other Houses to have some of the originals' magic circulate through."

"What about Hufflepuff then?" Harry inquired. "Is that why almost everyone who wasn't a Founder or their spouse went there? To preserve the balance since the others went elsewhere?" The reborn Slytherin considered the possibilities.

"Indeed, almost half of the original faculty has been reborn to be happy Badgers." Fawkes chirped cheerfully. "It is all about balance. The others might not have as much influence as you or Rowena… or even Edmund, but together, they were enough."

"Interesting." Harry rubbed his chin before continuing, "And the Heirs of the Founders?"

The phoenix stated, "Oh, they move around, just like everyone else. In fact, usually they aren't in the House for which they are an heir. However, there are some exceptions, like Mr. Riddle."

"I'm not one of the exceptions though," Harry stated with sudden heat. "And how is it even possible?" His vivid green eyes narrowed. "I am a biological descendant of Slytherin as well as Salazar himself," he said with exasperation. He was about to continue on what would undoubtedly be a heated rant when he suddenly froze, an odd thought coming to mind. "Wait," he whispered in an oddly neutral voice, "does the headmaster know?"

Fawkes ruffled his feathers. "Of course not. He's not omniscient, no matter how hard he tries to convince others that he is all-seeing. He has no idea that there are heirs of Slytherin other than Riddle, much less that you are his reincarnation."

"Well, how do you know then?" the teenager asked suspiciously.

"I am Hogwarts' phoenix and best friend. I know everything… well, at least everything she knows," the bird responded somewhat smugly.

Harry didn't look very convinced but chose to ignore the comment, returning to an earlier topic of conversation. "I am my own descendant. That's what the Gate… well, I guess said isn't exactly the right word, but that's what it showed me," the reborn Founder informed the creature. "It just makes no sense, and it's kind of dodgy," he murmured with confusion.

Fawkes gave the phoenix equivalent of a sigh. "In a strictly literal sense, you could consider yourself a soul descendent." He straightened, going into lecture mode. "Well, you see, souls tend to travel in family lines. You'll be a member of a family in one life, let's say Salazar Slytherin. In the next, you could inhabit the body of what should be your many-times-great-grandchild, Harry Potter," the bird answered thoughtfully, settling himself more fully on the bed.

Harry tilted his head in understanding. "It sounds better when you say it that way. I was worried there for a minute," he said cheekily, letting Fawkes know that he was only being silly.

"Further, souls tend to travel in groups," the phoenix continued, flapping his wings and ignoring Harry's last comment. "The people you know from one life will be the same souls you know in the next."

"Such as my friends and associates as Salazar, who are also my friends and associates now," Harry commented with interest. "I had wondered if it was the Gate's doing, but apparently, it is true for everyone. The relationships changed some but are still essentially the same."

"Yes, exactly. It is true for most," Fawkes replied. "Indeed, their relation to you might change. For example, your mother in one life might be your sister in the next. Your son now might end up being your grandfather next time around. One thing, however, true mates in past lives will never be blood relatives in any of the following lives. It is just too bizarre for that to happen, much less for us to contemplate." The phoenix shuddered at the mere thought. "Other than that, the familiar relationships change, but generally, the friendships and the love do not," he concluded, fluttering his wings. "There are, however, exceptions." He gazed at Harry evenly.

"Like Severus and I?" the young man responded innocently.

"Yes, like you and Severus." Fawkes sniffed and rolled his green-gold eyes. "And how you despise each other. Or should I say, like he despises you. You now know better."

Harry shrugged weakly. "Yes, I know better. But not to worry, Fawkes, he and I will have a talk after all has been revealed to him," he said seriously, expression darkening. "I am sure he will have many questions. And there will undoubtedly be apologies – no matter how grudgingly given – on both sides."

Fawkes nodded and gave the bird equivalent of a grin. "Yes, there will most certainly be apologizes." He ruffled his feathers and came to his feet, preparing to leave. "Now." He looked at Harry intently. "As much as I don't want to go," the bird responded honestly, "I have several other places I have to be today. I trust that you will remember what we have discussed. I also trust that you will be ready for when Albus comes."

Harry acquiesced, "I will."

"Good." The bird winked at Harry. "Goodbye, my friend, and good luck."

Harry opened his mouth to give his farewell, but the phoenix had already disappeared in a burst of flame. The teenager shook his head and exhaled slowly, and he again glanced to the letter from the headmaster.

'One week,' he thought, face tightening. 'I have one week to prepare.' He smirked then, the Slytherin within him rising completely to the surface. 'Though I am not sure what exactly he wants to discuss, I'll prepare for every eventuality.' Harry laughed, thinking over a few quick plans. A sudden and joyful thought entered his mind.

'By the Maker, it is so good to be back.'

* * *

Double-extra-super House points to _ZeonReborn_, who correctly guessed that the amulet was the Phoenix Gate. Kudos to _Lady Salazar_ for having a cool name.

AN: Perhaps I should mention this now. This fic will only cover Harry's summer before sixth year and part way into the year. Well, and the appropriate past parts. After that it is sequel time. I am not sure how far into sixth year it will go. As of now, I have it planned to include Halloween. Then, there will be a gap in time for about a week or two, and that's where the sequel will pick up. Also, the timeline will go much faster from there. The third story in the series will start around March or April of Harry's sixth year. I am doing this because a big event will happen around Easter, and at the rate I am going, it will take ten thousand chapters to get there if I write it straight through.

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby_ for the beta.

_Chapter __Thirteen: Sister of the Raven_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited: **

**06/06/08**


	14. Sister of the Raven

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon. Also, there are several references to an idea from _The Mediator Series_ by Meg Cabot.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Sister of the Raven**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Faculty Library: Early Winter, 962 A.D._**

"Siobhan, whatever is the matter?" Rowena Ravenclaw questioned as she entered the library, noting the numerous books strewn about various tables. Her astute gaze settled on the blonde and the dreary, lost look on her face. She next noticed a sleeping student lay on one of the tables. He appeared as though he had been crying.

"Do you know what day it is?" Siobhan asked, her haunted and jaded eyes focusing on the redhead.

"Of course, it is the--"

Rowena's sentence died off as she realized the cause of sorrow for both her friend and her student. How could she have forgotten? How could she have possibly forgotten this day of all days?

"And the tenth is never a good day." The other woman trembled and looked as though she would burst into tears at any moment.

Rowena shook her head, her hand going to her mouth. "No, it is not." She walked over to her friend and embraced her.

The tenth was always a horrible day. It was the day Siobhan's family had been massacred.

With the exception of one other person, Siobhan was the very last of her clan, a very interesting and odd clan. One made of both magical people and those who would be traditionally considered Muggles. Yet, all of them had possessed rare magical gifts, every last one of them from the smallest child to the wisest elder. They could commune with the dead. And not only that, but they could pass into the realm of death itself. Further, they possessed the ability to physically interact with ghosts, for they could actually touch a spirit if they so desired. And unlike Necromancy, these gifts were inherent abilities, ones that required no study and only a bit of training to use.

Both the magical and Muggles alike shared these abilities, though the Muggle-like members of the clan could not perform any other feats of magic. Regardless, the Muggles had not resented their brethren for their other abilities since many of the non-magical members were actually having completely magical children. Such was the case with Siobhan herself, a Muggleborn and the first remembered witch in her direct family line. In fact, there were so many magically gifted children being born to the Muggles of the group that within a few generations, the entire clan would have been composed completely of witches and wizards.

Yet, in the end, even their rare abilities could not save them. They could pass back and forth into death but could not escape death itself. Not when their physical bodies were destroyed. They were mortal, just like everyone else.

Siobhan had been nine when it had happened, just nine. She had been in the woods just outside the village, gathering the rare magical herbs that only appeared in late fall and early winter. These were the very same herbs that were to go into a potion she wished to make for her sister, who had taken ill the previous day. She had searched for hours, fighting the cold and finally finding what she needed. Afterwards, she had returned to her village, only to find it in ruins.

Only one other had survived the carnage, a small boy who was barely even a toddler. He had been hidden away, undoubtedly by his parents, when his family's murderers came. Now, the self-same toddler was fifteen, almost but not quite a man. He was still very much a child, just a pupil in a magical school. In fact, Kieran was a student at Hogwarts, and he was asleep on the far table in the library.

Undoubtedly, the massacre was the work of evil wizards and witches unknown, perhaps the very same ones who had murdered Salazar's parents and later his older brother, Solaris. However, there was no real way of ever knowing because, even though Siobhan could speak with the dead, she couldn't speak with her clan-mates. Magic blocked her path to them. Magic of the most foul, loathsome, and yet powerful kind. Even now, years later, her path was still barred. Still, she had never stopped trying to reach them.

It had happen over a decade ago, but the slaughter of Siobhan's entire clan stayed with her to this day. There were just some things a person never truly got over.

"He cried himself to sleep," the blonde whispered, interrupting Rowena's thoughts. She indicated Kieran, who was sleeping on the far table. "He always has nightmares right before the anniversary. I'm rather surprised he is being so quiet."

Rowena gazed at her friend in silent understanding. "Oh," she stated suddenly, remembering why she had wandered into the library in the first place. "I received a letter from Fiona just now. She said that she will be here in three days," the woman said, hoping to distract her companion.

Siobhan's eyebrows rose. "Really? She's coming this early to help with the twins? Or is it because of Amia? Do you think that Fiona will be able to heal her?" she asked with ill hidden hope.

"Yes," the redhead replied simply. "My sister possesses a unique healing ability. Among other things."

The younger woman looked relieved.

After a minute, she questioned, "You mean her gift of Sight?"

Rowena nodded. "It's just so odd, you know. The healing I can understand, for my grandmother was much the same way. But there hasn't been a Seer in my family for centuries." She shrugged elegantly. "I just do not see where she got it from."

"Probably the same place Sal got his gift of Empathy. The Great Maker. Perhaps the universe at large," Siobhan answered truthfully. "But who can ever really know?"

"Well, not us," the older woman said sarcastically, her blue eyes flashing for an instant.

The blonde again raised her eyebrows, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "True." The smile lingered, but faded into something more wistful as her eyes once more shifted to Kieran. "As much as I don't want to, I think that we should wake him. He has already missed both breakfast and lunch, and I do not think that he should miss dinner as well. His friends are already worried enough as it is. They know that he is still grieving, even after all this time."

Siobhan felt a hand on her shoulder. "So are you," Rowena whispered in her ear and wrapped her arms tightly around her friend. She held on for a moment before releasing. "But then, you have the right to continue grieving. I still grieve over the death of my mother, and she went peacefully in her sleep." Her gaze lingered on Siobhan, intently searching. "I can only imagine what you are going through, but please know that I am always here for you. All of us are here for you."

The other nodded shakily. Rowena looked at her for a moment before walking very slowly over to the still sleeping Kieran.

"Wake up, young one," she whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. When he refused to wake, and the professor nudged him harder and spoke louder. "Come now, my little Lovegood," she murmured with a peculiar tone. "It is time to wake up. I suspect that your friends will most assuredly miss you at dinner."

A par of eyes opened and looked up at Rowena, surprising her and causing her to inhale softly. He had such beautiful eyes, crystalline just like his cousin's. It was the mark of their clan, though his were a deep brown where the eyes of both Siobhan and Tristan were a very light blue.

Kieran focused on his teacher, and a sleepy smile tugged at his lips. He covered his mouth just as he let loose a yawn. Then, he sat up, swaying. The teenager slid off of the table and rather shyly kissed both professors on the cheek before heading to the Great Hall for dinner.

Rowena stared after her student for several minutes. "He is such a sweet child," she finally spoke, turning to her friend.

The blonde inclined her head. "Aye, that he is, and he is so much like his mother, my aunt." She seemed wistful for a moment, but she shook her head fiercely to dispel her thoughts. "Well, I guess I had better be off and wake up Salazar," she added after a moment.

"Wake up Salazar?"

The younger woman actually smiled. "Oh, yes. Tristan was crying all night, and Sal was up with him the entire time. He stayed awake so that I could get some sleep. He figured that tonight I wouldn't as it is the anniversary," she put in sadly but quickly snapped out of it. Siobhan added with forced humor, "They stayed up all night. As you can imagine, both are quite tired."

The redhead looked pained by the statement, and she placed a hand on her rounded belly. "I guess that means I should become accustomed to sleepless nights?"

Lady Slytherin laughed and stood. "Probably. But I wouldn't worry too much. Between Quinn, Helga, and your sister, you'll have plenty of people to watch over your younglings as well." She moved towards the exit, Rowena following in her wake. "You might just have the opportunity to sleep the night through." She actually smirked then, the gesture much more fitting than her earlier sadness.

Rowena mock-snorted. "I'd say that between Helga, Quinn, Sal, and **you** that I'll have plenty of help. My sister will just be an added bonus."

* * *

**_Hogsmeade Wizarding Village, Home of Amia Hawthorne: Several Days Later_**

Fiona Ravenclaw was an interesting woman, for she was a person filled with contradictions. First, she both did and did not resemble her sister, Rowena. They both possessed bright red-gold hair and blue eyes. But where Rowena was tall with an angular face and body, Fiona was petite and rounded.

Second, she insisted on wearing some of the most ludicrous and mismatched colors in existence, believing that they went together perfectly. And she refused to wear anything that did not clash, color-wise at least. However, Fiona was completely colorblind and wouldn't have known if anything matched or clashed regardless.

Third, she absolutely loved to sing and did so all the time, but she possessed a singing voice which could and did make Banshees shriek for mercy. Fourth, she was a gifted Seer. Yet, somehow, she still professed the belief that there was no such thing as prophecy or Fate. That people made their own destinies.

Finally, Fiona Ravenclaw was one of the best and brightest Healers in Europe, being able to cure just about anything from twitchy ears to near fatal wounds. At the same time, the older Ravenclaw also possessed one of the worst bedside manners in history. For she was witty, blunt, and sarcastic. But deep down, she was rather caring and if not so gentle.

Presently, the interesting and odd Fiona Ravenclaw was attempting to save the life of Amia Hawthorne, mother of Edmund and adopted mother of Siobhan.

The Healer sat down warily, studying the now peacefully sleeping Amia Hawthorne and wiping her hands with a cloth. "We'll just have to wait and see, but the prognosis looks good," she whispered to Siobhan, who was looking on from beside the bed.

Along the far wall, both Edmund and Helga breathed a heavy sigh of relief and turned to talk to one another.

"But remember," Fiona added after a moment, "this is only the first treatment. There are still several more."

Lady Slytherin nodded. "Of course." Her eyes studied the sleeping figure before her. "But she looks so much better, even minutes after her first treatment." She gently ran her fingers across Amia's cheek, noting the return of color to them. "I am so glad that Rowena asked you to come, Fiona," she murmured.

"So am I. She was correct to bring me here," the older Ravenclaw said bluntly. "I don't think that anyone else could have helped. It was very smart of her, but then Rowena was always a smart one." She sat in silence for a moment, tapping her chin with her forefinger in a gesture very familiar. "She even convinced her husband to move here when they married," Fiona stated smugly, bending to check Amia's pulse.

Siobhan, who had been focusing on her mother, seemed confused at the comment. "But I had thought that he wished to live here anyway. Don't some of his distant kin live in Glasgow?"

"I suppose. It is not as though I know for certain. I'm not the one married to him." Fiona rolled her eyes before she continued her earlier line of thought. "Still, Quinn is a very stubborn man, and he was quite unwilling to move away from Wiltshire. I thought for a time that they would have to settle somewhere between, but Rowena is wily and can be very persuasive when she wants to be."

The blonde seemed quite interested in the discussion. "Well, how did she do it then? They had already been married for some time before I met them, so I missed out on the story."

"Well, that's the thing," the Healer inserted dramatically. "I don't know; she won't tell any of us. We are still trying to figure it out."

Siobhan looked at her incredulously before shaking her head and letting the subject drop. Perhaps it would be better if she didn't know, after all. Wordlessly, she turned back to Amia, once more fingering the woman's limp hair. She bent down and brushed her lips to her mother's forehead in a familiar gesture, silently praying for a miracle. She prayed to the Maker to save the one who she had come to view as a second mother after the loss of her own.

After the death of their clan, Amia had taken in both Kieran and Siobhan out of the goodness of her heart. The two orphans had been brought to Hogsmeade after they had been found in the wreckage of their home by warlocks, who had regularly traded with their clan. The men, two unmarried brothers, hadn't quite known what to do with the children so had brought them back to their home and to the town Elders. In turn, the Elders had unanimously decided to foster the two in the village but were undecided on who was to care for them. That was until the Widow Hawthorne had volunteered for the task.

Amia, whose youngest son Edmund had recently married and moved out, had been lonely. Especially since her husband had died almost a decade before. She had taken a single look at the two orphans during the town meeting and had instantly opened both her home and her heart to them. She had quickly come to love the two as she did her own offspring and treated them as such. Her children had also swiftly come to see Kieran and Siobhan as family. Amia's three sons and their wives had often been guests during their childhood and had spoiled them rotten with gifts and stories of their infamous exploits about the village.

And it had been on one of those trips home that Edmund and Helga brought with them their close friend and associate, Salazar Slytherin.

The rest, as they say, was history.

Within months, Siobhan and Salazar had been married. The couple had spent their first year and half of marriage finishing the castle and the next three educating minds within its walls. Somehow during that span, they had found time to do what both had always wanted. Start a family.

However, none of it would have been possible without Amia Hawthorne. She had first taken in Siobhan when she had nowhere else to go and had given the girl a home. Next, Amia had loved her as her own and saw to it that her real children did the same. Finally, the Widow Hawthorne had actually encouraged Siobhan to follow her heart and marry at the age of seventeen, contrary to the contemporary wizarding view that couples should wait until they were older to wed, at least in their early to mid twenties. No need to behave like uncivilized Muggles, after all.

And now, the very same woman, the wonderful and caring person with a beautiful heart and a glorious soul, was dying. Regardless, there was hope now. Hope for healing because Fiona was there. Hope was what Siobhan desperately needed. She couldn't lose her mother, not a second time.

Beside her, Siobhan heard a faint cough. Blue eyes instantly snapped to Fiona, the Healer returning her gaze intently.

"What? It wasn't me," the older Ravenclaw said frankly, she jerked her head towards Amia.

The blonde turned an expectant gaze towards Amia and was startled by what she saw. "Mum," she choked, eyes shining bright.

Amia Hawthorne was awake. Not only that, she was seemingly pain free.

From out of nowhere, Edmund and Helga magically appeared at the bedside to stand by Siobhan. All three huddled around the one who meant so much to them, happy to see her look so alive.

In the background, Fiona smiled and quietly left her chair. She moved to a comfortable seat near the wall, the one Helga had so recently vacated, to nap. Her work for tonight was finished, but tomorrow would bring a new day and a new treatment. She would need her rest.

* * *

**_Unknown: August 1st, 1996_**

Surprisingly, Lord Voldemort was a very patient man. He had to be given his occupation. Being a Dark Lord was not exactly easy, despite what some of his more foolish opponents thought. There were incompetent servants, interfering headmasters, the idiotic Ministry, and a whole slew of other things to deal with. Negotiations with other Dark followers. Plots and plans. Raids. Torture. The usual.

At the current moment, he sat in his throne, the fingers of one hand slowly spasming. It took all of his willpower to resist the urge to wandlessly strangle the simpering men who knelt before him. Yet, somehow, he fought down the temptation to rampage through his underlings, murdering and torturing and altogether wreaking havoc as he went.

Some days, it just wasn't worth the effort to get out of his oh-so-luxurious bed. At least, his perpetual headache from the last several weeks had finally dissipated. Thank the Maker for small favors. However, even that, did not make up for having to deal with **this**.

"For-forgive me, Sire," one of his servants said in a whimpering voice.

Voldemort momentarily tried to remember the man's name, but it escaped him. Instead, he settled for narrowing his vivid red eyes.

"W-we couldn't find anything. No-nothing at all," the man continued, quivering from his position on the floor.

Next to him, his companion was equally frightened. Practically shivering right out of his sweat-soaked robes. His trembles only increased as Voldemort's attention flickered to him momentarily.

The Dark Lord, in turn, idly tapped his fingertip on the arm of his throne. "You expect me to believe that the Vance family had nothing? Absolutely nothing of value? And everything we recovered from their home was completely useless?" he questioned, tone oddly calm and belying his inner incredulity. "Her father was a Master Artificer for the Department of Mysteries, and both his mother and uncle were Master Enchanters. Ian Vance himself was a historian of no little notoriety. And yet, they possessed no knowledge of what we seek. None at all. Not even a stray scrap of parchment."

"N-No, Sire," the man replied in a tiny voice. He was clearly on the verge of wetting himself.

This fool wasn't even worth the _Cruciatus_ Curse. He didn't feel like wasting the effort. Voldemort instead gave a dangerous smile then and flared his magic. A distinct tingle filled the room, pure power in every molecule of the air. His robes rustled around him in an almost pleasant manner. Energy danced across his skin.

In the meantime, the two Death Eaters quaked even harder, sinking closer to the floor. Their bones crackled and popped from the force bearing down on them. There was a distinct snap, followed by several more, the sound of fingers breaking.

Tom Riddle just sighed. He felt a slight pounding at his temples. Evidence that another migraine was soon to come. And he let his magic disperse.

"Send me Bellatrix and get out of my sight." Voldemort rubbed his forehead, watching as they tried and failed several times to get off the floor. "Just… just go." His urge to kill had been replaced with something else entirely, and he had a strong desire for a glass of scotch.

No, the Dark Lord did not have an easy job. Not easy at all.

* * *

**_Number Four, Privet Drive: August 2nd, 1996_**

The amulet was blue, a shifting sort blue as the color went from cobalt to sky-colored and back. It hung on a delicate rope chain and glinted in the earlier morning. The phoenix engraving on it ruffled its feathers every few minutes, and the bird tilted its head this way and that, as though it were trying to get a better look at the parchment that was on the desk mere meters away.

Seated at the desk, Harry Potter was furiously scribbling away. He would occasionally hesitate and then use his wand to erase the last sentence. He had to get it just right; it had to be perfect. He couldn't allow himself to mess this up.

Finally, after what seemed like hours and probably was, Harry set his quill down and glanced at the enormous multi-page letter he had just penned. His green eyes slowly scanned the script as he reread what he had written. Once more, he lifted his wand and erased a sentence, not at all fearing the laws against underage magic. He and Fawkes had removed the alarms from both his wand and home the previous night. Now, he was free to cast any spells he chose, for the Ministry would have no way of knowing since all the wards were now permanently set to the off position.

The reborn Slytherin smirked just thinking about it. There would be no more repeats of the incident last year with the Dementors and Umbridge, where his own wand betrayed his use of magic. There would be no more repeats of the floating pudding incident either. Where the wards the Ministry had automatically placed on his home, through use of his acceptance letter from Hogwarts, falsely registered the house-elf magic as originating from him.

Harry was truly free, and he couldn't be happier. It had originally been difficult to accept that, while his mind was adult-like thanks to the memories of Sal, he would be forced to obey laws meant for children. But his ingenuity combined with that of Fawkes, part of the problem was quickly solved, and the rest would soon follow. The teenager had his full magical abilities at his disposal. Not legally, at least not yet. However, he was free from worrying about it.

Smirking wickedly at the prospect of his complete and upcoming freedom, Harry turned back to his letter to Luna. He quickly scanned the document, editing a few more sentences before reaching for an envelope. He neatly tucked the letter inside and then pressed his wand to the opening of the envelope. He muttered a quick spell, and a seal appeared, firmly closing the letter.

The crest was an interesting one. A serpent tied in a Celtic knot at the bottom with three intertwined "S's" that formed a strange sort of triangle just above it. It was a seal that hadn't been seen in almost a thousand years; it was the personal crest of Salazar and Siobhan Slytherin.

Harry smiled at the sight, and he placed the envelope on the edge of his desk and retrieved a few more sheets of parchment. He still had one more letter to pen; a letter that would be in many ways easier but also more difficult to write. Mostly due to the fact that he wasn't writing to the one who had once been his wife. Also since he had never actually spoken to or even met this other person in his entire life. However, no real worries on the second aspect, for Harry knew that his letter would not be instantly discarded. On the contrary, the other individual had quite a vested interest in him and would most definitely be interested in what the reborn Salazar Slytherin had to say.

His eyes glazed over for a minute as Harry thought about what to say. After several heartbeats, his face relaxed. And he smirked.

'Perhaps the direct approach would be best?' he thought to himself and eagerly began to write.

_Dear Dominic,_

_While you may not know me personally, we share a mutual friend…_

* * *

AN: It was mentioned that I might be overdoing the whole reincarnation thing. But basically, as this is a key aspect of the plot, I don't think that I am. The only people I am mentioning are those who are important. For example, I only mentioned Faolan because I needed the tie in with Sirius and Remus and because I needed to depict how evil Godric was. In all probability, Faolan will probably not be mentioned again. Harry will know that he is now Remus, but Remus will probably not find out about it. And if he does, it won't really be that big of a deal. Also, before I get reviews about her, Fiona is **very** important later on. She does actually serve a purpose.

Here is a list of the characters that you will find out about the future selves, if you already don't know. I reserve the right to add or subtract from the list though: Salazar, Siobhan, Rowena, Quinn, Helga, Edmund, Godric, Tristan, Elgin, Rhade (Rowena's son), Rhayne (Rowena's daughter), La Muerte, Merlin, Amia, Faolan (he is just a tie in), Solaris, and Fiona.

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby_ for the beta.

_Chapter Fourteen: Confessions of a Different Sort_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**06/06/08**


	15. Confessions of a Different Sort

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: Confessions of a Different Sort**

**_Unknown: August 3rd, 1996 (Late Night)_**

She sat at a desk with her head in her hands and a book lying open in front of her. Her heavy-lidded eyes were wet with moisture, and her midnight-black hair shook about her shoulders as she sobbed.

'I can't believe that this is happening,' she hysterically thought to herself. 'What am I going to do?'

More tears welled in her eyes. She ran a hand over her belly, and for one moment, she felt a wave of contentment. However, the feeling soon disappeared as the reality of her situation sunk in once more.

She was having a baby. And her husband wasn't the father.

The thought only caused her to cry harder. She shoved the book off of her desk, ignoring the open passage detailing a rare magical artifact, and laid her head on the cool wooden surface.

"What am I going to do?" she whispered out loud. "What can I do?"

Thoughts drifted through her mind.

'Who can I turn to? I can't stay here. I won't have my child grow up here. With of all this.' She exhaled and fought another wave of tears. 'But who can I go to? Narcissa? No, she is entrenched too deeply. Going to her would only mean death for both of us. Andy? Maybe, but we didn't part on the best of terms. I'm not sure if she would help.' She breathed in slowly and sank down into her chair, her head still on the desk.

'The Ministry… Hardly. I could never go to them; I'm an escaped convict. They'd throw me back in Azkaban so fast that my head would spin. But not before they terminated my pregnancy. **It wouldn't do to have another future Death Eater, after all**,' she thought bitterly, imaging that horrifying future for her child. The bitter reflection crashed about her mind for several minutes, further cementing her resolve not to turn to the government.

'But who does that leave?' she reflected. 'Dumbledore? Could I really turn to him? I know that he would protect my child, but I would probably never see him or her again. Dumbledore would give me a second chance, but he wouldn't trust me with a child. Not after the Long--' She forcefully shook her head to dispel the thought, not wanting to go down that well beaten path of guilt and damnation. 'And he definitely wouldn't let me keep the child of…' Her breath hitched. She ran a hand over her belly once more.

'I wish Sirius was alive,' she decided suddenly. 'I could have gone to him. He might have hated me, but he would have given me a chance at least. He might have distrusted me and watched me every waking moment, but I would have had a chance. He would have done it just so another member of his family could be redeemed, even if it was the baby and not me.' Another wave of sadness passed over her. 'But I can't go to Sirius, can I?' she questioned bitterly. 'No, I can't… because he's dead… and I killed him… but I didn't mean to. He was only supposed to be stunned. He wasn't supposed to fall through the bloody Veil.' She sobbed again after the last thought.

'So that's it. There's no one to help me because Sirius is dead. There's no one but Dumbledore and--' Her heavy-lidded eyes widened suddenly.

"That's it," she whispered to herself with unexpected hope.

'That's it,' she reverently added, forcing herself to stay quiet, lest the Listening charms in her room detect something more. 'I can turn to him. That's it! He'll hate me and try to curse me. But he might listen, and he'll help because it's the right thing to do. He'll help because he loved Sirius. Even if at the same time, he'll blame me for his death, but he'll still help.'

Her crying continued. Only this time, it was with tears of joy, not sorrow. There was suddenly hope in her life, hope for her child and for herself. Perhaps forgiveness and redemption weren't that far away either.

* * *

**_Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, The Kitchen: August 4th, 1996_**

"Mum?" A red head poked through the partially open door. "Mum, are you in here?" Ron looked around, searching for his mother.

Another person appeared from the other side of the room. "Yes, dear. Is there something I can do for you?" Molly Weasley gazed at her son as she wiped her hands on a towel.

Ron shrugged and looked at the ground. "No, I just wondered where you were." He began to toe his foot onto the kitchen floor.

Molly glanced at him, clearly not believing him for a minute. Regardless, she chose to remain silent.

'It's always better to let them tell me in their own time,' she decided, turning back to her cooking. She quietly directed her wand to start peeling potatoes. Occasionally, she would discreetly peek at her youngest son, who was now sitting at the table, staring at the designs in the wood.

'Ron has been acting rather odd lately,' Molly reflected, now preparing the stew. 'I've worried about him, but I just don't know what's wrong. He's been quiet, far too quiet. Normally, it is Ginny or Percy…' Her mind hesitated over the mention of her estranged son, but she quickly moved on. 'Normally, it's them who are quiet. Not Ron, never Ronnie. It's almost like he is depressed.'

Molly stirred the stew a few times, and her mind drifted. 'There have been other things as well. He's been a bit unsocial, too, and that's not normally like him. He always spends time with Ginny during the summer, but lately, he has been shutting himself in his room. And he has only written Harry one time, just the once. Usually, by this time, he has all but begged Harry to come for a visit… and he hasn't this year.' She turned to dice some carrots, a suspicion deep in her heart.

'Perhaps it is the shock from the Department of Mysteries… from losing Sirius.' She sighed then, reflecting on the lost Order member. 'Ron was close to him, not as close as Harry. But close still. He was so involved in Sirius' rescue that it isn't much of a stretch for Ron to have a connection with him.'

Molly sighed again and surreptitiously glanced at her son, who was watching her actions with interest. She shook her head weakly, returning to her cooking and her thoughts.

'But I don't think that this has anything to do with Sirius. It's something else, something different. When Ron is upset he tends to become angry, not depressed. But what else could it be?' Molly contemplated for a moment, adding meat to her stew. 'Could it be something else from the Department of Mysteries? Did something else happen that I'm not aware of? Did one of the Death Eaters do something to him?'

The redhead considered this for a few minutes, continuing with her cooking. She stirred it fiercely, adding ingredients every few seconds. She occasionally snuck more glances at Ron. And finally, the Weasley matriarch gazed at her son for more than a second, squaring her resolve. She flicked her wand at her stew and set it on a slow simmer. She turned and walked to the kitchen table, sitting down across from him. Ron didn't even glance up, giving no indication that he had noticed her movement.

"Ron," Molly said and receiving no response she spoke louder. "Dear… Ron, please look at me." She moved her hand and touched her son gently.

He jerked back as though he had been burned, but he did finally look at her.

"Ron." She tried again. "Love, I know that you aren't here to simply watch me cook. Even when you claim to be starving, you don't do that." She tried to smile but couldn't manage it. "What is wrong, my son?" Molly whispered, looking intently at him. Again, she tried to take his hand, but he jerked away.

"Nothing," he all but shouted defensively. The boy glared at her darkly.

She sat stoically, not letting her face show anything. She would let him come in his own time.

Ron continued to glare at her for a moment, but his gradually expression softened. "Nothing… maybe… something." He paused and cringed, staring at the tabletop. "Something is wrong, but I don't know… I can't tell what. Just something."

His mother continued her silence, giving him a chance to answer. But after he was quiet for a time, she spoke up.

"Could you explain that?" she questioned softly, trying not to startle him.

The teenager grimaced. "I don't know. I just feel… wrong, like something is bad inside… wrong… broken." He sighed and shook his head, still gazing at the tabletop. He began to tremble. "I just don't know, but it wasn't always like this. It didn't start until after June… after the Department of Mysteries." He exhaled the breath he had been holding.

"Was it because of Sirius?" Molly asked gently, but Ron shook his head in a firm negative. "Was it the Death Eaters?"

Again, the answer was no.

"Do you know or think you know the cause?"

An affirmative nod this time.

"Well?" she prompted.

"It wasn't because of Sirius," Ron fumbled over the name but continued, "or the Death Eaters. It was something in the Department. It was…" He hesitated. "Do you remember the brains that attacked me?" He finally looked up again.

"Yes."

"It's… I think that it's them," he said quietly, his trembles growing violent. "I think that the brains did something to me."

* * *

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Dom's Rooms: The Same Day (Late Night)_**

Dominic stared at the letter in his hands, reading over it from a third time.

_Dear Salazar,_

_Forgive me._

_Please, I beg you… forgive me. I made a mistake, a horrible life-shattering mistake. I trusted Gryffindor. I trusted him because, by all outward appearances, he seemed sincere. I did not even bother to look below the surface. My instincts were screaming at me to look harder, to search deeper. But I did not. Yet, I cannot really think of why. All I could think of were the attacks on Muggles, of how he said that it was you. He even had evidence that it _**was**_ you. And, looking back, it was undoubtedly fabricated. Still, I believed him. I cannot even blame youth for my naïveté, for I was over five hundred at the time, hardly naïve due to lack of experience. All I can say is that I was tricked. All I can say is that I was a fool. And for that, I will forever be sorry._

_I made a mistake, and for the longest time, I did not even realize it. For almost a thousand years, I thought that I had done the right thing. I thought that I had done a good thing. However, I obviously had not. Even then, when I carved the runes on the athame, I felt that I should not be doing this. I felt as though it was wrong. Even when I thought you a murderer, I still believed it wrong to punish you in such a way. No one, no matter the crime, deserved that… to be sent into limbo for eternity. No one deserves it. And yet, I still did it to you. In many ways, I think that makes me even worse than Godric. I was willing to do the unspeakable. All in the name of justice._

_After reading your letter, I have come to the realization that you are not angry at me. In fact, you are thankful… thankful that I freed you. That I realized my error and corrected it. Part of me wishes that you would just hate me for it all, that you would hate me as much as I currently hate myself. It would be far easier that way. It would be easier to deal with righteous anger than it is to live with gratitude. I feel as though I owe you so much, like I owe you life with your wife and son. A life I denied you. I owe you so much, and when I try to repay even a little of the debt, you thank me._

_It is a very humbling experience, and perhaps it is an experience long over due. For people such as myself, who have lived so long… well, we sometimes become caught up in our own pride. In our own experience. I have seen so much. I have done so much that sometimes I feel as though I possess the wisdom of the world. Sometimes, I believe myself above and beyond making mistakes or needing assistance. Perhaps I lied earlier when I wrote that I did not know why I believed Godric. In all honesty, I do know. At the time, I thought that I was too wise, too experienced to be tricked by someone as young as Gryffindor. I thought that someone so young could never deceive me._

_More the fool I am because ultimately he used my own nature against me. He used my long life as a shield for his deception. He knew that I was arrogant, too arrogant to think him an equal in terms of intelligence._

_But alas, this is all the past now. It is unchangeable… unless we were to use the Gate, but even that option is not truly available to us. It would undoubtedly destroy the timeline, and for all we know, it would make the present even worse._

_However, this has brought me to my next topic: the Gate itself. It was the Gate that showed me the truth. It was the Gate that guided me to bring you back. It was the Gate that helped me find a blood relative to release you. It was the Gate that made all of this possible, and it is the Gate that will help us make everything right._

_We have so much to do, so very much. And we do not have enough support to do it. Even with the three of us: Siobhan, you, and me – plus Fawkes, Hogwarts, and the Sorting Hat of course – and even if we were to use the Gate to travel through time and repeat days, we simply cannot do this alone. We need allies; we need help. And you know who I mean. We need them, and they will help us. They just do not realize it yet. But soon, they will. Very soon._

_We need to plan. _

_I implore you to write back. There is much to do, and we must make the time to do it._

_Sincerely,  
**Dominic de Dorée**  
Defense Professor, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

The vampire looked up from reading his letter and turned to the brilliant red-gold bird perched on the edge of his desk. "It is finished, Fawkes," he stated evenly, glancing at the letter one last time. Impulsively, he penned a final line.

"And is it secure?" the phoenix asked.

"Yes," Dom replied steadily enough, placing the letter into an envelope and sealing it. "It is spelled so that only those who are actively connected to the Phoenix Gate can see it, much less read it. Anyone else will not see anything at all. It will not be a blank piece of parchment or look like another type of letter; it simply will not be there." He inhaled slowly, handing the letter to the bird.

"Good. This way not even Albus can read it." The phoenix hesitated for a moment. "It is not yet time to tell him that Harry is Salazar. He… Albus just isn't ready yet," Fawkes finished with a whisper.

The vampire nodded. "I understand."

Fawkes ruffled his feathers and gave a tweet. "I will deliver it to Harry now instead of in the morning. I have no doubt that he is still awake; he is a bit of an insomniac."

Dom smiled at the bird. "Thank you again, my friend."

The phoenix chirped. "Any time. I love having an excuse to go visit," he responded as he took to the air. The bird chirped once more and disappeared in a burst of flame.

Dom sat in his seat several moments after Fawkes' departure, lost in thought. After a time, he rose and moved off to his bedroom, praying the entire time that Harry would forgive him. Just as he turned off his light and climbed into bed a single sentence of his letter replayed in his head, the last one he had written.

_I can only pray that one day, after your forgiveness has been earned, that you would give me the honor of calling you a friend._

* * *

**_Grimmauld Place, Third Floor Study: August 5th, 1996_**

"Do you really believe that Draco Malfoy will help us?" Bill asked suddenly, causing Hermione to look up from her book: Celts: Magic and Muggle.

"Yes," she answered. "Yes, I do. There's something about him, something so very… familiar." She shook her head and glanced at the redhead, who was sitting in the chair next to her. "I just can't explain it." She hesitated for a heartbeat, considering.

"Explain what?" Bill questioned softly. He reached over and gently took her hand in his.

"It's… I don't know," Hermione said, flushing lightly before gazing off into space. "It's just that I know that he doesn't really believe most of what he says, like about Muggleborns. He just has this look in his eyes when he says things like that. It's almost like he is disgusted with himself for even saying it."

The man stared at her for a moment, thumb rubbing circles on her hand. "But how can you tell?"

Her eyes finally met his, but she quickly looked away. "It's like we have a connection."

"What kind of connection?" he asked with sudden heat.

Hermione flushed hotly. "Not the same kind I have with you," she answered honestly, lips twitching. "It's just a connection… a pull. Like we are very important to one another. Or maybe that we should be."

Bill relaxed and squeezed her hand.

She exhaled the breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. "I just think that we should give him a chance. I think that, deep down, he is good and would be a great help to us." The young woman implored softly, "Please believe me."

Bill studied her. "I believe you," he replied, meaning every word. "If you say it's true, then it is."

The teenager flushed once more, moved by the fact that he trusted her so much. She opened her mouth to speak, but Bill beat her to it.

"I trust you, Hermione. I trust your judgment. You are rather good at reading between the lines." His thumb rapidly ran over her fingers once more. "You can see the subtext, see the things people really mean, even when they do or say something to the contrary. You put all the pieces together so easily."

The brunette shifted with embarrassment. "That's more Harry than me. He sees the big picture. He was the one who realized that Quirrell was going to go after the Philosopher's Stone on the day that Dumbledore was gone. Even if we originally thought it was Snape who was the culprit. And he was the one who located the Chamber of Secrets. I could go on," she added, turning away. "I'm just good at finding all the pieces, not necessarily getting the puzzle together," Hermione finished with a self-depreciating tone.

The redhead conceded, "Perhaps."

He squeezed her hand again and took a deep breath. He shifted nervously in his seat, looking as though he was getting ready to say something really important. The man squared his shoulders and deepened his resolve.

"Hermione, I have something to tell you," he put in after a moment.

She looked at him expectantly.

"I…" He hesitated, then started again. "Well, I am just going to come out and say it," the older man said with growing emotion. He looked straight in her eyes. "I fancy you."

Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock. "Bill, I… This is very unexpected," she said in a stunned voice.

"Really?" he asked, looking somewhat saddened by her reaction. "Was I not as obvious to you as I was to everyone else?"

"Well, not unexpected per se," she corrected quickly. "It's just that I never thought you'd like me." At Bill's inquiring look, she went on, "Well… you're cool, and I'm **not**." She stared at him fiercely. "I'm a bookworm, a know-it-all.

Bill actually started to laugh. "Hermione," he chastised, moving from his seat to kneel in front of her. "Hermione," he continued, "I'm those things as well. If I had a Knut for every time someone called me those very same names at Hogwarts… well, I'd be as rich as Lucius Malfoy." He smiled at her somewhat confused expression. "I was Head Boy, after all, and I didn't get that because of my supposed coolness." The curse-breaker smirked at her and cocked his head to the side. "Which, I might add, is a relatively recent development."

The brunette actually looked shocked by his statement. "That's right," she whispered. "With all that's been going on lately, I didn't think about that. I had actually forgotten all about it," she added to herself, looking quite peeved that she had not remembered that the redhead had once been Head Boy.

Bill's smirk widened.

In turn, Hermione's eyes narrowed. She looked at him critically.

"Oh, what are you smiling about?" she asked sternly.

The curse-breaker laughed. "You didn't say that you didn't fancy me back. You just said that you never thought that I would like you."

Hermione had an odd expression on her face; it was a cross between a blush, a glare, and a smile. She opened her mouth to retort, but before she could form the words Bill leaned over and kissed her.

* * *

**_Number Four, Privet Drive: August 6th, 1996_**

Harry sighed and set down his letter from Luna on his desk. He couldn't help but smile. The letter was awkward, very much so. But it was also oddly fulfilling. The part of him that was Salazar, which basically all of him, wanted to jump up and down with joy. Luna had written him back, and she hadn't dismissed him out of hand. Sure, she knew the truth about the past, but deep down, he still feared that she would be angry at him for dying… for leaving her to raise Tristan alone. Yet, she wasn't angry. She was happy. Happy to know the truth, happy to have a chance to at least talk with him, to be friends again. If nothing more.

And for that, he would be eternally grateful. Humans were such odd beings. They could be angry at others over the silliest things, even if it wasn't their fault in the first place. Luna would be well within her rights to hate Harry forever because of his previous life and death. But she didn't. She was far to kind to hate anyone at all, least of all him.

'She is just like Siobhan in that regard,' the reborn Salazar thought wistfully. 'But then, she **is** Siobhan,' he added. His smile widened. 'Luna is Siobhan; Siobhan is alive,' the phrase echoed in his mind.

Harry was ecstatic that his wife was once more alive, but that fact caused quite a conundrum. Was she still technically his wife? Did she even want to be? Even more, did he want to be married to her? Did he even still love her?

The teenager didn't know the answer to any of those questions. And it made his head spin even thinking about it.

'Many would say that I'm too young to be married,' Harry thought with a sigh. 'By Circe, many think that someone my age is too young to even be truly in love. But what is my age? Physically, I'm sixteen. But mentally… I just don't know. I have all the memories of my last lifetime plus all those of my current one. How old would that make me?' he contemplated for a moment.

'And what about Luna? She is fifteen years old, but she has all the memories of Siobhan Slytherin, who lived to be over a hundred.' He reflected with a slight frown, 'I am Salazar, and she is Siobhan. Nevertheless, we're still Harry and Luna also.' He sighed and began to rub his temples. He just knew that a headache was shortly coming his way.

'And what's more, we were friends and lovers then. We knew each other better than we knew ourselves. But now… we're friends but not very close.' Harry could already feel the beginning of a jab behind his eyes. 'So much has happened; I missed so much of her life last time. Do we even still know each other? Really know each other? We'll be friends again; we already are. But I am not sure if we'll ever be anything else.' He shook his head, letting out a little groan, and brushed his hair out of his face.

'And what about Tristan?' Harry added after a second. 'I know that he is again alive in this time as well, but I don't know who he is. The Gate knows, but it won't tell me. It feels that I am not ready for that knowledge yet. And honestly, I agree with it.' He breathed slowly and toyed with the letter in his hand, the pain behind his eyes thankfully receding. 'I have even problems contemplating the fact that I may or may not have a wife. I'd probably have an aneurism just thinking about the current identity of my son.' The teenager removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, thinking about Tristan.

'I missed so much of his life. Actually, I missed almost all of it. What would I say to him?' Harry frowned deeply. 'What will I say to him? I know that the Gate eventually plans to involve him, but still, I just don't know what to do.' He exhaled again and replaced his glasses on his face. He shook his head once more and tried to move on to other, happier, thoughts. Like the fact that he would have a second chance with Tristan.

Harry folded Luna's letter and placed it back in the envelope. He ran his fingers over the familiar crest. Three intertwined "S's" on the top with a serpent in the shape of a Celtic knot just below. It was the exact same one he had sent to her.

He placed his letter among his other things, hand brushing over another envelope. Harry glanced at his earlier reply from Dom, the one he had received the previous day via Fawkes. The teenager gazed at the envelope for a moment before opening it. He started to reread, making sure that he understood the content correctly.

In the background, the young man heard a strange sound, which was almost like a slight shift of the air. He glanced up momentarily and made sure his wand was in easy reach. After a minute, hearing no other peculiar sounds, he returned to the paper in his hand. But just as he started to read again, he felt a tingling sensation at the base of his neck. It was the very same feeling that told him a wizard was close by. Very close by.

Harry again looked up from his letter. He grabbed his wand and whirled around in his seat.

Albus Dumbledore was standing in his bedroom.

* * *

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby_ for the beta.

_Chapter Fifteen: …And Everything Came Crashing Down_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**06/06/08**


	16. And Everything Came Crashing Down

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: …And Everything Came Crashing Down**

**_Number Four, Privet Drive: August 6th, 1996_**

_In the background, the young man heard a strange sound, which was almost like a slight shift of the air. He glanced up momentarily and made sure his wand was in easy reach. After a minute, hearing no other peculiar sounds, he returned to the paper in his hand. But just as he started to read again, he felt a tingling sensation at the base of his neck. It was the very same feeling that told him a wizard was close by. Very close by._

_Harry again looked up from his letter. He grabbed his wand and whirled around in his seat._

_Albus Dumbledore was standing in his bedroom._

Green eyes widened, taking in the sight of the elderly headmaster with Fawkes the phoenix perched on his shoulder. Harry gazed at both of them for a minute before lowering his wand and tucking it into his pocket.

"Well, hello… Fawkes," Harry greeted the bird pleasantly, standing as the creature flew over and came to rest on his shoulder. "What a pleasant surprise. I wasn't expecting anyone to **just** **drop** **in** on me without an invitation," he gently reprimanded the professor, who actually looked somewhat chagrinned, for showing up unexpectedly and uninvited. "And hello to you as well, Headmaster," Harry finished, offering the man his desk chair. With a flourish, Harry sat on his bed.

"Please forgive me," Fawkes said quietly, "but Albus insisted that we flame-travel into the house instead of outside. I thought that your bedroom would be best as it was the least likely place for the Dursleys to be present."

Harry nodded, understanding what the phoenix had left unsaid. "You think that someone other than the Order is watching the house. You flame-traveled inside so they would be unaware of your visit."

"Why, yes," Dumbledore answered, looking rather impressed by Harry's reasoning. "And I ask you to forgive me as well. It was not my intention to intrude upon you."

The teenager accepted the apology with a slight nod and dropped the subject. He cast his mind about for another topic. His eyes landed on a recent edition of the _Daily Prophet_ and the emblazoned headline.

"So… is it true that Fudge has been replaced?"

The headmaster studied him with interest. "Yes, the Ministry is in a transitional phase. Technically, Scrimgeour is currently in charge, but Cornelius is still in the process of turning everything over."

Harry was silent for a moment, contemplating the repercussions. 'I guess that means most of the plan against Fudge and the Ministry has to be scrapped as it involved getting him out of office. At least, we don't have to worry about him anymore,' he thought to himself and internally smirked. 'The Umbridge parts of it are still good though,' he added, rubbing a finger over the words still etched onto his hand.

Out loud, the teenager asked, "Is the new Minister any better than Fudge? Scrimgeour, did you say? I'm not really familiar him."

Dumbledore considered the question. "He is more active than Cornelius, but I am not sure he will be 'better,' as you say. He, too, shares Fudge's views of wizarding purity and the place of magical creatures in our society. At least, he believes Voldemort has returned. He is taking steps against Tom as we speak. However, I am not sure how beneficial those steps will be."

The young man listened intently, eyes darkening at the mention of Fudge's biased views of magical beings. There was nothing he disliked more than those who believed that pure wizarding blood equated to superiority, an ironic thing considering Salazar's supposed prejudice against Muggleborns and others. Siobhan alone was testament to the absurdity of that rumor.

"Steps, you say… like the pamphlet they sent out?" Harry questioned, mentioning the booklet that had been sent to every magical home. It covered basic principles of how to defend a home and what to do in the event of an attack.

Dumbledore smiled faintly. "Yes, I received one of those as well. It was very informative," he added jovially.

Harry had to fight a snort at the thought. He grinned at the image of the Ministry official who was stupid enough to send Dumbledore, the Defeater of Grindelwald and Frightener-of-Evil-Wizards everywhere, a pamphlet on what to do if Death Eaters attacked. The professor's eyes twinkled as though he knew exactly what Harry was thinking.

His student grinned even wider in response, but he quickly sobered. "What else has been happening?" Harry asked in a quiet voice.

The twinkle disappeared.

"There have been attacks. Not many but attacks still," Dumbledore stated simply. "There were several fatalities, but a few others have survived." There was something in his manner that said members of the Order were included in the list of victims.

"Which Order members?" Harry softly questioned, looking at the older man very intently.

Dumbledore sighed. "Emmeline Vance and her husband were attacked and killed in early July at their home. As you may not know, she worked in the Goblin Liaison Office, so she was issued a Portkey by the Ministry. However, it had a limit on the mass that could be transported. It was just enough for their three small children." He shook his head sadly before continuing. "Jay and Beatrice Macabee – I don't believe that you met them – were killed while on assignment. Their bodies were dumped at the entrance of Knockturn Alley," the old professor added with a very strange expression. The professor shifted in his chair, a faraway look in his eyes.

After a moment, he glanced back at his pupil. "Madam Bones…"

Harry's eyes widened at the name.

Dumbledore paused to incline his head. "Yes, the same one from your trial, Harry." The headmaster peered at him over his half-moon glasses. "She was attacked at her home, but she – like the Vances – was issued a Portkey. She was hit by a stray curse just as she was pulled away and is currently in St. Mungo's. However, they expect her to make a full recovery in a few weeks." He continued to gaze at Harry. "The rest are people you are not familiar with. A few are relatives of your schoolmates, but none who you know particularly well," he finished solemnly.

The young man contemplated the information. "Have the families of any of the DA members been threatened?" he inquired with thinly concealed dread. At the headmaster's negative shake of his head, Harry went on, "Some of the Inquisitorial Squad with connections to the Death Eaters might know the identities of our members. They had access to the list through Umbridge," he elaborated a second later.

"Hm… we will need to warn them. They might not be aware that they are in danger," Dumbledore said thoughtfully.

Harry nodded. "I've already mentioned it to Hermione. She has been writing to all of them. I thought that if I wrote and sent it out that it would be more likely to be intercepted as Hedwig is very recognizable," he explained at the old man's interested expression. "As far as I know, all have replied that they received and appreciated our warning." He watched Dumbledore, gauging his reaction to the statement.

Once again, the professor seemed impressed. "A wise thing to realize that, Harry." He looked at the younger man with increasing interest.

Harry gave him a slight smile. "And what of Voldemort?" he finally asked, belly twisting ever-so-slightly.

Dumbledore inhaled. "We don't know much. Have you had any visions at all? Anything that might be a vision?"

"No, no visions. I've been practicing Occlumency," Harry answered honestly enough, leaving out the part where he actually knew how to do it now thanks to his memories as Salazar. "It seems to be working."

The professor took the statement with a nod of understanding. "That is very good, Harry. You need to practice. Perhaps later, if you are amenable, we could test your shields?"

Harry thought about it for a moment before nodding an affirmative.

Dumbledore went on, "As for Tom, all we know is that he is searching for something, a magical artifact of great power. It is called the Phoenix Gate."

Thanks to Fawkes' forewarning, Harry was not surprised by the information and was able to conceal his knowledge of the Gate. Still he was fascinated nonetheless.

"Interesting. What does he want it for?" he inquired, managing to sound both neutral and innocent.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers. "We still aren't entirely sure. We have several members researching the abilities of the artifact as we speak. From what we do know, it is a powerful magical object, utilized for time travel. Much like a Time Turner in that regard." He paused, letting the information sink in. "However, it is capable of going much farther into the past. Days, weeks… perhaps even months and years."

"Such a thing would be very dangerous in Tom's hands," Harry commented.

The older man peered over his glasses. "Yes, it would. Very dangerous indeed. That is why we are also searching for it."

Harry thought for a moment before adding, "Is there anything else?" He idly tapped his chin with his forefinger.

"Nothing that we know of, but there are undoubtedly several other things he is involved in. We just aren't aware of them at the moment," the headmaster added, face distant for a heartbeat.

Harry sniffed thoughtfully and moved onto the next topic. "So when am I leaving here?"

If Dumbledore was surprised at all by the change of subject, he didn't show it. "Tomorrow. I wanted to take you today, but Molly Weasley insisted that she come to fetch you. She won't be able to until tomorrow. She had Order responsibilities today."

The teenager tilted his head, a grin briefly tugging at his lips. "I guess that means I should pack," he allowed thoughtfully as he glanced around, noting his school things were surprisingly in neat stacks about his room. He turned back to the professor. "Was there anything else you wished to discuss?" he asked, voice cool and very distant.

Dumbledore was slightly put out. "There were several other things I wished to discuss with you, Harry."

"Really? I think that we've covered everything important," Harry responded with certainty. He made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

The old man breathed out slowly. "I think I know what this is about, my boy. I know why you are trying to get rid of me, even when we have important things to talk about." He studied his student intently. "You want to avoid this discussion." He tapped the desk with his fingers before steepling them again. "I know that I have used you, Harry. I know that I have broken your trust and manipulated your situation, not for your own benefit but for that of others. And for that, I will be forever sorry." Dumbledore sighed once more before continuing. "You were entrusted to me by your parents in the event that both they and Sirius were unable to care for you, did you know that?"

"I suspected," the teenager answered after a minute, trying not to squirm in his seat. He really didn't want to talk about this now… or ever. He just wished that the Earth would choose this moment to open up and swallow him.

The older man nodded. "I thought you did." He clarified at Harry's expression, "You have never questioned the fact that I had your vault key, which I gave to Hagrid. Or the fact that it was within my power to leave you with the Dursleys."

The younger man had to fight a scowl at the mention of his relatives.

Dumbledore hesitated but went on, "Though they are your caretakers, I am your magical guardian and have say in all transactions in the wizarding world."

Harry inclined his head in understanding, settling in his seat. If he had to be here for this discussion, at least he could have all of his questions answered.

"I never questioned before because I asked Mr. Weasley about it once, during the summer of my second year. He was the one that told me that you were most likely my magical guardian since the Dursleys wouldn't understand the workings of the wizarding world, and he thought my parents would appoint someone that did." Harry paused to look at Dumbledore shrewdly. "Is that why you're inquiring about my financial status?"

Albus seemed startled for a moment. "Yes, it is. May I ask how you know?"

Harry smirked, an expression oddly reminiscent of his much loved Potions professor. "Fawkes."

Dumbledore glanced at the bird, who currently wore a guilt-free expression. "Ah, yes." The professor flexed his fingers but kept them together. "I have been looking into your financial information due to the fact that the record I have is incomplete. There were references to materials not present, so I concluded that part is missing… or that it had been removed," he explained. "I suspect that it was done by your parents in case Sirius was incapacitated and I was overruled. They did it in case you were placed with other, less scrupulous people. Those who wouldn't hesitate to take your money should they learn of it."

"Like the Dursleys?" Harry questioned with a hint of some nameless emotion.

The old man grimaced weakly. "Yes," he replied frankly, "but that was if they were your complete guardians. In charge of you in both worlds – magical and Muggle. In such an event, they would have full disclosure of your financial status. However, since they are only your partial guardians, I wasn't required to disclose the information."

Dumbledore actually smirked, as did Harry. Both were undoubtedly thinking about how much money the headmaster's actions had denied the Dursleys. If they had been his complete guardians, they would have been aware of the money. And they would have taken it.

Harry considered that statement for a moment. "But that still doesn't explain why you were interested in my finances," he carefully stated.

The elderly man frowned. "Last year with the Ministry and the way they were trying to discredit you--"

Harry interrupted him as he realized the professor was speaking of something he had already contemplated. "You thought that Fudge might try to take my inheritance. Or that he was stealing part of it, at the very least."

"Yes," Dumbledore responded simply. "Since Cornelius was no longer in awe of you and also rather angry, he might have resorted to taking your money or threatening to in order to quiet you. Such things have occurred before."

The two sat in silence for a few minutes, pondering the implications of that comment. Harry sat, lost in thought and looking out the window. On the other hand, Fawkes chirped to himself, preening his feathers. Meanwhile, the headmaster removed his glasses and cleaned them with a wave of his hand.

Finally, Albus spoke again. "I believe that is enough about money for now. You undoubtedly have questions about other matters."

Harry nodded, reluctantly continuing. "Yes, I do. Peachy, the house-elf… Did you really think I would harm myself?"

"I thought it possible." Dumbledore inhaled very slowly. "You were very angry last I saw you. I feared that the anger would turn to depression coupled with the events of June. I thought that it would be best if someone watched over you. Someone other than the Order members, who were staying outside. I needed someone inside the house." And he genuinely seemed contrite when he said, "I am truly sorry that I invaded your privacy, but I do not regret it for a moment. I had no other way of knowing."

Harry accepted the apology with a sniff. "You could have asked," he put in, looking at the headmaster.

A grimace crossed Dumbledore's face. "I didn't think that you would want to speak with me, not after the last time we spoke."

It was Harry's turn to grimace. "I can see why you would think that. I'm sorry for destroying your office, by the way." He gazed into the older man's eyes. "It was wrong of me to take my anger out on you. It wasn't your fault about Sirius. That was Bellatrix and Voldemort."

Dumbledore accepted the apology quietly.

Harry continued to look at him before he carried on the earlier discussion. "Is that the reason you asked both Moody and Tonks to spy on me?"

"Yes," he responded. "I assume that Fawkes told you about that as well."

Harry smiled in an affirmative.

"I thought as much." The professor paused for a moment. "I know that I made a mistake with that decision, but please know that no matter what I have done, I have always tried to do the best for both you… and the wizarding world. But oftentimes, what was best for everyone else was not best for you."

Harry attempted to speak, but the headmaster raised his hand and silenced him. "Please, hear me out." He shifted in his seat and turned to face the teenager more fully. "I had to make many decisions after Tom was originally defeated. I had to determine how best to put the wizarding world back together, and I had to prepare for any repercussions from his defeat. Yet, most importantly, I had to decide what to do with you. I knew the prophecy and that Voldemort was not truly gone." Dumbledore shifted in his chair and leaned forward. "I knew that you were needed to defeat him for the final time and that you were in danger in the wizarding world. If I placed you with a family, there was a chance that they were secret followers of Voldemort or that they might be attacked to get to you. Also, I couldn't be sure that any protections placed on them would hold. Please remember that the _Fidelius _charm failed for your parents because of their Secret Keeper. I had no way of knowing if the Keeper chosen was honestly with us."

"You could have been the Secret Keeper," Harry replied, not at all reluctant to voice his opinion.

"Yes," the professor responded, "but please remember, Harry, I am an old man. I had no way of knowing how long I would live. If I had died, then the charm would have fallen. It is the nature of the spell to fail if the caster dies, and I would have trusted no one else to cast it." Albus ran a hand through his beard absentmindedly, murmuring something to himself.

Nevertheless, he snapped out of it in an instant and stated clearly, "All that was left was the blood protection. Your mother died to save you. Voldemort spilled her blood, figuratively speaking. Ultimately, it was her blood that defeated him. Her blood in you," he clarified softly. "So I could use that blood to protect you, and that meant the Dursleys; they were the only ones left. Your maternal grandparents were already dead by then, killed in an auto accident just months after your parents married. The next closest relatives were distant cousins, and they were so removed that you aren't even legally related. The protection wouldn't have worked with them anyway, so it had to be Petunia."

Harry sighed and turned away. "But why did you never check on me? Did you know that I used to sleep in a cupboard?" he questioned, heat rising in his tone before suddenly fading away.

"I only discovered that fact later, much later." The headmaster exhaled. "You were already a student at Hogwarts by then."

"Why didn't you check up on me?" Harry asked again, his voice completely neutral as though he wasn't doing anything more personal than commenting on the weather.

Dumbledore closed his eyes for a minute before opening them. "It was part of our agreement when the Dursleys took you in. I was to keep all magical people, including myself, away from both them and you. I was not to knowingly have contact with you until it was time for you to go to Hogwarts." He gazed at Harry intently, something strange passing through his eyes. "Petunia knew enough about the wizarding world that she made me agree to a magically binding contract. There was a loophole, however. The key word in the contract was magical. As such, I could have a non-magical person watch over you."

"Mrs. Figg," Harry breathed, his voice still even.

"Indeed. I have known her since she was a toddler. Her family all attended Hogwarts, and one of her daughters and her husband were killed by Voldemort in an attack at their family home. Arabella was gravely injured but recovered. I knew that I could trust her to watch over you, even if she would have only tenuous contact at best." Albus gave a sad sigh. "Further, even if she found anything, she could only involve Muggle authorities because of the contract. Since she was acting as my agent, the contract extended to include her."

The young man remained silent.

Dumbledore exhaled weakly. "I know that this was not the best arrangement; it basically gave the Dursleys free and unchecked reign over you, but it was the only option. Anything else, and I am not entirely certain that you would not be alive today. There were just too many variables to consider." He breathed out heavily then, and Fawkes let out an inquiring chirp that he ignored. "I know that you are angry with me, Harry, and you have every right to be. I tried and failed to protect you. The Dursleys hurt you badly, and it is as much my fault as it is theirs. You may doubt that I was working in your best interest, and you may doubt that I have told you the truth about the matter." He hesitated for a second, his aged hands clenching. "But please don't doubt that I love you. Yes, I have made mistakes, many of them unforgivable." Albus whispered the words, "I am only human; I don't have all the answers."

Harry's eyes went wide, and he sucked in a heavy breath on the old man's pronouncement. No one in this life had ever before told him that they loved him, at least not that he could remember. The teenager was sure that his parents had said it, but those memories weren't among the ones he could now recall. He fleetingly remembered that Dumbledore had mentioned it in his office after the Ministry fiasco, but Harry had been far too angry and hurt at the time for the words to have any meaning.

Instinctively, the young wizard reached out with his latent Empathy gift, courtesy of his life as Salazar, and found the headmaster. Harry almost recoiled when he connected with the old headmaster, quite shocked by what he had found.

The professor felt strange, his emotions churning. There was a fierce desire to protect, which seemed to override everything, blazing through to the very surface of his thoughts. And it was coupled with a peculiar sort of pride, almost parental in its intensity. Regardless, it was the third emotion that surprised the teenager the most, and he couldn't quite understand the bizarre longing in the headmaster's heart. Yet, perhaps the most intriguing fact of all was that these three feelings, along with numerous others, were all directed at him. At Harry.

Dumbledore truly did care for him. And far more deeply than his words alone could describe.

"What about my time at Hogwarts?" the younger man asked, brushing a faintly shaking hand over his face.

The headmaster shifted in his seat, but he didn't answer immediately.

"You were preparing me, weren't you?" Harry questioned when he didn't receive a reply.

Dumbledore actually looked ashamed. "Yes, I had no other option; the prophecy needs to be fulfilled. I attempted to make it as gentle as I could." His voice was weary now and so full of regret. "I didn't intend for you to protect the Philosopher's Stone or for you to fight the Basilisk. I just wanted you solve the mysteries. And while I did send you to save Sirius, I kept Fudge and the Aurors at bay at the same time. I couldn't get you out of the Tournament because – even though you didn't enter yourself – Crouch acted as your agent. The contract was binding. And last year…" Dumbledore hesitated.

And it was Harry who provided the answer. "It was just one disaster after another, most of which you didn't plan or intend at all," the reborn Slytherin said simply.

"Yes, that describes the previous year rather accurately," Albus asserted with a helpless air.

Harry narrowed his emerald eyes. "And what of me in relation to the wizarding world?"

Dumbledore wouldn't meet his gaze. "I had to do the best for them. I had to protect them. I had to save them."

The teenager interrupted Albus before he could continue, "So you would sacrifice me to do it?" Green eyes bored into blue. "You would sacrifice one innocent to save ten thousand damned. What a great man you truly are," Harry added the last with a fair amount of sarcasm and contempt.

Dumbledore looked taken back. "Harry, it wasn't like that," he stated forcefully, showing an emotion other than regret or sadness.

"Oh, really. How was it then?" His voice wasn't steadily rising. On the contrary, it was lowering. "To **me**, it sounds as though you were prepared to sacrifice me, my life, to save those bloody bastards. You know, the same ones who were too cowardly to stop Tom in the first place. The same ones who would rather pretend that the problem didn't even exist," his voice dropped to a whisper. He spoke calmly, but his words were filled with venom. His eyes flashed and filled with power.

And in that moment, Albus looked as though he desperately wanted to cry. "I was just… I just… I was trying to do the best for everyone. I did the best I could, but it wasn't enough," he finished in an incredibly small voice.

From the corner, Fawkes silently watched. Just as he had for most of the conversation. His heart was breaking in that instant. Albus sounded so very tired.

Harry, too, must have sensed the headmaster's situation because his expression softened slightly. He spoke again, this time with a gentler tone.

"But it wasn't enough." The sixth-year exhaled then. "No, it wasn't." Harry paused for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. "You were the only one doing anything. You were the only one, and you were responsible for everyone else. They wouldn't help you, would they, the other wizards? They just expected results." He breathed out and stared at the floor.

Dumbledore nodded, remaining completely silent, as though he had no idea what to say.

The teenager inhaled. "And when you couldn't deliver, they became angry. Angry that they didn't have their perfect, little world. Angry because they believed that you had failed them. Did they even realize that they were the failures?"

The older man shook his head and fought the lump that was forming in his throat. "No, they did not realize. And they still haven't. Even after all this time." Albus whispered, "But I realized that I've failed. I have failed you so very badly, my dear boy. I tried," he murmured, "and failed. But I had the very best of intentions. I tried so hard--"

Harry's head snapped up, and he stared at the other man. "As one very wise Muggle once said: '_The road to Hell is paved with good intentions_.'"

Dumbledore looked as though he had been slapped. He instantly deflated, closing in on himself.

Hesitating, the old man nodded. "And it is nothing but the truth," he whispered more to himself than to Harry. He glanced at the teenager imploringly. "Please, Harry. Please just give me a chance. I want a chance to make it better. I know that I can never make it up to you, but I can try. That is all I am asking." Dumbledore pleaded, looking as though his very soul depended on the younger man's answer.

Harry just stared at him, unsure of what to say. On one hand, he knew that the professor had tried to do the best for everyone, though he had failed dismally when it came to Harry himself. Yet, the man had still tried, which was more than anyone else had ever done. Nevertheless, on the other hand, Dumbledore had manipulated the situation and him as well. Sure, the man was trying to save an entire culture, but it was their fault they were in the situation in the first place.

The teenager sighed, still not knowing what to do. Manipulation could be forgiven. He should know as he himself had used it many times, in both of his lives. Yet, manipulating children and those you loved was different than doing it to people who actually deserved it. Dumbledore had used him; yes, that was true. The headmaster had used others he loved also. Even if he had had the best of intentions, he still used people who trusted and believed in him to further his own ends. No matter how noble those ends were, it was still wrong to control those entrusted to you. It was even worse to manipulate children placed in your care because they had no say in the matter. They had no other options, if they even realized the manipulations at all.

Harry shook his head and again looked at the elderly professor, green eyes staring into blue ones once more. There was something about him, something so very familiar.

An image flashed in his mind, a memory from the Phoenix Gate. Face tightened in sudden understanding. And he looked at Albus Dumbledore in near wonderment.

The reborn Slytherin simply stared at the man, looking as though his entire world had just changed in an instant. And in many ways, it just had. Harry simply gaped, wishing to be frozen in that moment forever, to be caught in that moment of revelation and sudden understanding. So many things, which mere seconds ago were beyond comprehension, now made complete sense.

"Harry, my boy… Harry?"

He heard a voice in the distance and instantly came back to himself. He immediately noticed that a pair of eyes was mere inches from his own. A wrinkled hand was on his shoulder, shaking him. Apparently, he had been distracted long enough for the headmaster to become worried.

Harry inhaled deeply and noted the scent of the older man. He smelled like lemons and parchment mixed with magic.

"Alright," Harry said after a heartbeat, looking up at the man he had come to love as a grandfather. He sniffed again, and the scent of citrus became almost overwhelming.

"Pardon?" Dumbledore asked, now rather confused. He gazed at his student intently, as though he feared Harry had become befuddled.

"I said alright." The teenager hesitated, unsure of how to continue. "You can have your chance."

For the first time in a long time, Albus Dumbledore smiled.

* * *

Kudos to _Lady Cretin_ for her awesome guesses.

**And here are some subtle hints, some not so subtle hints, and some interesting things for you all to think about**: Sirius will show up again but not how we are expecting. Ginny has a past incarnation, and why doesn't anyone guess with her? Bellatrix is pregnant, and her husband isn't the father. The baby won't be a Lestrange. The current incarnation of Tristan has to be related to Luna somehow since souls travel in family lines, and as such, he might have similar abilities to Siobhan's clan.

Also, there are Heirs of Gryffindor, but Godric never married or had children. Remember that an heir doesn't necessarily mean a descendant. Harry did pull Godric's sword from the Hat, but he is not an heir. Harry is a descendant of the Slytherin line, meaning that he and Tom have to be, at the very least, distantly related. But we don't know on which side of Harry's family.

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby_ for the beta.

_Chapter Sixteen: From the Ashes_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**06/06/08**


	17. From the Ashes

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: ****From the Ashes**

**_Number Four, Privet Drive: August 7th, 1996_**

He was leaving… leaving Privet Drive to hopefully never return. To some, leaving their childhood home and their family behind would be a sad event. Nevertheless, he wasn't like most people. First, this was not his home, childhood or otherwise. No, his home was a castle that was half an island away. Second, his **so-called family** wasn't really much of a family at all; they didn't even like him. No, he wasn't sad to be leaving. He wasn't sad at all. In fact, Harry Potter, once known as Salazar Slytherin, couldn't possibly have been happier.

Harry merrily whistled an ancient Celtic tune to himself as he directed the last of his things into his magically enlarged trunk. With a flick of his wand, his books separated into piles and fit neatly next to his clothes, his new and magically improved clothes. Another flick brought his most prized possessions to his trunk: his photo album, Invisibility Cloak, and the repaired two-way mirror, and he packed them along the edges.

'This is so much easier by wand,' the teenager mused to himself as he gently closed the lid. 'I'm so glad I removed the Ministry tracers.' He smirked to himself then, imagining the difficultly he would have encountered had he been unable to use his wand. 'Well… first, I wouldn't have been able to fit everything, especially considering all of my books and the entire new wardrobe the Order insisted on giving me for my birthday. Second, I would never have been able to make it fit neatly. Third… well, I wouldn't have been able to make it now do this,' he finished, casting one final spell.

A brilliant, yellow light shot out of his wand and hit the trunk. With his wandless left hand, Harry concentrated on the silent enchantment. He flicked his fingers, causing his trunk to shrink to roughly the size of a stack of cards. With a self-satisfied smirk, he tucked it neatly into his pocket.

The young man cast a cursory glance around the room, making sure that he had everything. He patted his shirt, ensuring that the Gate was still around his neck and receiving a reassuring rush of warmth in response. He checked beneath the floorboards one last time before turning and heading downstairs. He sauntered down the short hallway to the kitchen, pressing his ears against the door.

'Good,' he thought happily, 'the Dursleys are just sitting down to breakfast.' Harry smirked again, not even really caring about the fact that they were eating without him. 'I would hate to spoil it for them, but it looks like I have to,' he added sweetly, his expression beguiling the innocence.

Harry quickly sobered his face and entered the kitchen, fighting the grin that was desperately trying to cross his lips. He strode boldly over to the empty seat at the table and began helping himself to a plate, pretending that he didn't detect the surreptitious and anxious glances he received in return. His very presence was making the Dursleys incredibly nervous, but for the life of him, the teenager just couldn't bring himself to really care. In fact, he took a wicked sort of pleasure in it.

After several moments of uncomfortable silence, at least on the Dursleys part, Vernon finally found the nerve to speak. "So, boy… Harry," he corrected himself quickly, not wanting to incur the young man's ire, "what are your plans today? Going to stick around the house? You're not going out, are you?" the man questioned, clearly hoping that Harry would stay in so that the neighbors wouldn't see him.

Both Petunia and Dudley paused in their eating, also quite curious. They gazed at the wizard briefly before quickly averting their eyes. The horsy woman grimaced noticeably, unable to control her face. On the other hand, her son trembled, trying to inch away.

Harry glanced at Vernon, his fork half way to his mouth, and he set it down gently before answering. "Oh, I'll be leaving the house later," he replied, knowing that they would misinterpret what he had said. It was true that he would be leaving, but unlike the Dursleys thought, he didn't plan on returning. Ever.

Petunia and Dudley both sagged in relief, glad to get rid of Harry for any length of time. Vernon, however, simply nodded before disappearing behind his newspaper. The meal continued in relative silence. Harry used his wand, which was hidden in his transfigured wrist-holster, to cast a discreet Warming charm on his bangers.

Vernon finished his paper, reappearing from behind it with nervous eyes. He cleared his throat and asked, "And when are those ruddy freaks… er… your friends going to let you leave? Will it be any day now? You know, you're usually gone… visiting them by now," the man went on, hoping that his own wizarding freak would be gone shortly.

"Soon," the young wizard supplied, taking a sip of juice. "Very soon," he continued, green eyes sparkling. "I suspect any time now."

Inside, he was silently laughing. He hadn't informed the Dursleys that he was departing today. As such, they didn't know that the Weasleys were coming to get him sometime within the next hour or so.

Distantly, Petunia heard a strange whooshing sound, but she chose to ignore it. She instead gazed at her estranged nephew, eyes narrowing due to his comment. She was about to form a reply, but her words fumbled when she noticed the large smile that blossomed on the teenager's face. The little freak had his head turned and was staring fixedly at the kitchen door, the same one that led into the parlor.

Harry's grin suddenly widened. At the very edge of his senses, he felt three magical presences. Three very familiar presences. He cast a quick glance at his watch before turning and winking at a confused Dudley. Apparently, his escort was already here.

The young wizard smoothly left his seat at the table and deposited his dishes in the sink before turning back to his relatives. He merely offered them a short bow, adding a bit of flourish to it for good measure.

In the background, Petunia could swear that she heard voices in her parlor.

Harry walked to the kitchen door and opened it. Just before he stepped out, he stated flippantly, "It seems as though they already here." With that, he went through the door and into the other room, leaving three stunned Dursleys in his wake.

"Well, hello, Harry dear," Molly Weasley said cheerfully as he entered the room. She bounced up to him and enveloped him in a fierce hug, one that he returned fully.

After a moment, he stepped back and greeted the other two occupants of the room. "Hello, Mr. Weasley… Professor McGonagall," he addressed respectfully, moving to shake hands with Arthur and hug Minerva. If either was surprised by the gestures, they didn't show it.

"So how have you been, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked as she was released from the surprising embrace. She studied her student carefully, noting the strange sparkle in his eyes. Normally, she only saw such a thing with Albus. It was vaguely unnerving.

Harry was about to reply to the question, but Vernon's sudden roar of rage interrupted him. The man came barreling out of the kitchen followed by his wife and son. Both of whom seemed to be very confused, though Petunia hid hers well.

"Boy," he bellowed, coming up to Harry. "What is the meaning of this?" He violently gestured to the three magical people standing in his parlor. The look in his eyes clearly said that he would like to do nothing more than trounce the bloody freak that very instant.

"Oh, this is my escort," the young man stated with another smile, deftly sidestepping and completely ignoring Vernon's wrathful glare. "I believe that you have already met Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," he added, gesturing to the two. "This is my Transfiguration professor and the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, Professor Minerva McGonagall," he finished, introducing the witch with a flourish.

"A pleasure," Professor McGonagall stated dryly, making no move to interact with the Dursleys.

"Likewise," Molly added, knowing without a doubt that Vernon Dursley was close to violence. She subtly moved for her wand, and out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that her husband, the professor, and Harry had all done the same.

Arthur eyed the three Dursleys warily and attempted to diffuse the situation. Yet, at the same time there were certain things he truly wanted to discuss with them… in private.

"Minerva," he said turning to the Transfiguration teacher, "why don't you take Harry to fetch his belongings. Molly and I have a few things which we wish to confer about with the Dursleys."

The usually stern Minerva nodded and fought the smile that threatened to bloom on her lips. Without a doubt, she knew what Arthur wished to discuss, and by the looks of it, so did Harry. However, the deputy headmistress chose not to comment. She instead simply indicated that the young man should lead the way to his bedroom. The two quickly hurried upstairs and into his barren room. Minerva took one look inside, eyes narrowing dramatically and lips pressing into a thin line. Warning bells went off in the back of her mind.

"Where is your trunk, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall questioned, eyeing his desolate room suspiciously. In her opinion, it was far too small for him and didn't have nearly enough furniture or other decorations. By Morgana, there wasn't even a single poster or picture on his walls.

"Harry," he put in smoothly, ignoring her question entirely.

The teacher looked at him in confusion. "Pardon?"

"You said Mr. Potter, but I prefer to go by Harry. We aren't in school, so you can call me Harry," he responded pleasantly, wondering if she would rise to the bait.

She raised an eyebrow and actually smiled, an action that was unusual in itself, at least to her students. "Fine… Harry," she corrected, considering what he had said. After a moment, she spoke again. "Since you are correct, we are not in school, you can call me Minerva," she said with a slight smirk, hoping to surprise him. The woman was vaguely disappointed when he only grinned, and she eyed him for a moment before continuing. "Fine, Harry," she tried again, "where is your trunk?"

Harry smirked and patted his pocket. "Right here, Minerva," he answered, trying out her name. "I already had it before we came upstairs, but it seemed like a good idea to leave the Weasleys to their… discussion." At Professor McGonagall's perturbed expression, he carried on, "It's enchanted to shrink." He made a gesture, indicating that he was ready to leave.

"Really?" Minerva commented as she turned to follow him, one of her eyebrows rising considerably. "Such an addition is usually quite costly. Unless one spells the trunk themselves," she responded, gazing at him with a speculative look on her face. "However, such a spell would also be well above the level of most sixth-years as it involves bending and condensing molecules without destroying them. In fact, that spell is post-NEWT level. Quite an accomplishment, Mr. P… Harry," she finished, looking at him intently.

Harry merely shrugged, an innocent expression on his face. "Interesting, but who said that I was the one who enchanted it," he evaded deftly and motioned for her to lead the way.

Minerva cast one last look at him before she walked through the doorway. "Humph." She snorted but let the subject drop, strolling down the hallway to the stairs. They headed downstairs, bypassing the parlor, and into the backyard.

At the young wizard's questioning look, Minerva explained, "We are leaving by Portkey. One Dumbledore made himself," she assured quickly, leading him further from the house. "However, I don't believe the Dursleys will be pleased if we do so inside. We'll Portkey out here. I just have to cast a few spells so that the neighbors won't notice," she finished, flicking her wand. She walked around, casting spells.

Harry nodded and moved to stare at the house, allowing her to work uninterrupted. A strange feeling rose up within him as he stared at the plain brick building and heard the shouts coming from within. It was an odd sensation, like something was squeezing on his chest and making it hard to breathe. And it took the teenager several seconds to figure at what the feeling was.

He was sad.

Not sad that he was leaving. No, he would never be sad about that. He was sad because he wasn't sad. If that even made any sense at all. He was leaving what should be his home, what should be his family, to possibly never see any of them again. And he didn't really feel badly about it either. He was glad to leave, and that happiness made him actually feel wretched.

The reborn Slytherin finally glanced away, eyes settling on Minerva. She was looking at him strangely, having completed her spellcasting. It seemed as though she knew what he felt or at least suspected and wanted to comfort him, but there was nothing she could possibly say that could make this better.

From beneath his shirt, he felt the Gate suddenly heat up, warming his skin. It understood what he was going through; it knew that he regretted the truly awful time he'd had here. Harry looked back to the house, green eyes glittering strangely, regret filling him even more. This should be his home… his family, but they weren't. They had never let him be anything more than an inconvenience.

His eyes suddenly burned, and he fought the urge to cry. A faint breeze stirred in the air, drying his tears almost as swiftly as they appeared, but the professor still saw them. A hand, Minerva's, settled onto his shoulder and rubbed soothing circles. It was comforting, but it wasn't enough.

One thought kept echoing through his head. 'This should be my home…'

Finally, Harry knew what he had to do. His voice came out as a whisper but with an odd Celtic accent.

"_They are my kin, but they have caused naught but alarm.  
Pain, tears, and violence… they have done me great harm.  
Send their deeds back to them, three times three.  
As I will it, so mote it be."_

Everything seemed to freeze for a moment. The breeze stopped completely, the air now heavy. A dog, that only a few seconds ago barked heartily in the distance, was now silent. It was as if the very Earth were holding her breath.

From the side, Minerva dazedly looked around her hand still on his shoulder. "Mr. Potter… Harry… what was that?"

Harry, however, did not answer immediately. He just nodded and walked toward the shed that was situated near the back fence.

After a few minutes, he finally glanced at her. "That, Professor… Minerva," he murmured, watching as the Weasleys exited the house and approached them. "That was justice."

The brunette eyed him warily, clearly confused. She opened her mouth to speak, but Molly beat her to it.

"Let's go," the Weasley matriarch ordered firmly, a strange cast to her normally warm face.

Arthur glanced at her. "Yes, let's go." He turned to the young wizard. "Don't worry about the Dursleys, Harry," he said easily and removed a phoenix feather, the Portkey, from his pocket. "They'll not bother you again."

Harry smiled thinly, but it was Minerva who spoke.

"No, they won't, will they?" she murmured to him softly, studying him again.

The teenager just continued smiling and moved to touch the Portkey. Yet, just as it was about to whisk them away, his attention flickered once more to the house that should have been his home. To the people who should have been his family; they were watching him leave from the safety of their kitchen. They seemed eager to see him gone, and the young man reached out with his mind and connected with their emotions. Only to recoil as he felt the prideful anger of Vernon, the gluttonous envy of Dudley, and seething hatred of Petunia.

He let out a sigh that was quickly followed by a self-satisfying shake of his head as he withdrew his sense and stared back at them unrepentantly. 'No,' he thought calmly and without any trace of sadness, anger, or vengeance. 'No,' he continued, 'they won't be bothering me or anyone else ever again.'

* * *

**_Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, Third Floor Study: August 8th, 1996_**

"So Dumbledore isn't trying to keep us all in the dark--"

"--and he isn't purposely acting all strange and barmy?" the twins asked in their usual disjointed manner.

"No," Harry stated firmly, "he's just overworked. The stress of holding the wizarding world together for so long coupled with the weight of having to fight against both the Ministry and the Death Eaters… well, it's just getting to him."

"So I guess this means that our comeuppance plan for him mistreating you is now in the rubbish bin?" Charlie questioned.

"I would hope so," Remus put in, looking far healthier than the last time Harry had seen him. "It wasn't a very good plan to begin with, and I can't honestly say that he deserves it. At least, he tried." The werewolf inhaled slowly. "That's more than anyone else did."

"Yes," Harry said with a slight nod, agreeing completely. "He said that he didn't really have many options to work with, and I believe him. He seemed sincere. Plus, Fawkes vouched for him. If you can't trust a phoenix, a beacon of goodness and hope… well, there's not really anyone else you can trust then."

The others nodded in understanding. They sat in silence for a minute as they digested the information Harry had provided. He had basically recapped his entire conversation with the headmaster, leaving out nothing save the mention of the Phoenix Gate. Further, he had given his own opinions on the validity of what the old professor had said. All told, the young wizard had explained that the man was not intentionally neglectful or malicious; he was simply doing the best he could with limit resources and very little assistance.

After a moment, Hermione turned to him and broke the silence. "So you've forgiven him for… for…" she fumbled for the words, trying to find a way to make her accusations not sound so accusing.

Bill took pity on his girlfriend. "For basically messing up your entire life?"

Harry uncomfortably shifted in his seated. "Yes, but it isn't like that. Like I told you earlier, he didn't intentionally 'mess up my entire life.' He just was between a rock and a hard place--"

"What?" Charlie asked with confusion. He exchanged a look with his siblings.

"Muggle metaphor," Remus answered, stretching his shoulders. "It means that he had two choices to make, and both of them weren't really good options to begin with."

"Oh," Charlie commented, shrugging carelessly. He looked at Harry. "Sorry for interrupting. Please, continue."

The younger man inclined his head. "Well, Professor Dumbledore had to do the best for the wizarding world, as well as the best for me. Both are sort of mutually exclusive choices, but he still tried. He may not have succeeded very well with me, but at least, he tried. That really is more than most. Or anyone else really."

"What about Voldemort then?" Ginny questioned without even flinching at the Dark Lord's name.

"Well," Harry conceded, smirking somewhat. His emerald eyes were twinkling mysteriously. "Tom and I are in a bit of a family tiff. He wants me to die a horrible, excruciatingly painful, and – most likely – an exceptionally violent death. And I just won't oblige him."

They others were all shocked by Harry's firm yet capricious pronouncement.

Suddenly, however, Hermione's eyes widened. "Wait," she said in a very faint voice, "did you say a **family tiff**?" The bushy-haired Prefect held her breath, waiting for his answer.

"Well, yes," Harry replied with an ironic smile, "didn't you know?"

The brunette shook her head weakly and opened her mouth to speak, but no words were forthcoming.

"How?" Remus asked suddenly, his wolfish eyes very wide. "Er… how are you related?" he clarified after a minute.

Harry smirked. "On the Slytherin side."

If it were possible… and apparently it was, the others looked even more dumbstruck than before.

"So you're telling us," Bill broke in abruptly, running a shaking hand over his shoulder-length red hair, "that you are related to both Voldemort and Slytherin?"

Harry nodded with a slight smile. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but the twins beat her to it.

"So all that nonsense--" George spoke quickly.

"--in our fourth year--" Fred went on.

"--about you being--"

"--the Heir of Slytherin--"

"--was **true**!?" they finished together.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Harry replied simply, as though he was commenting on nothing more vital than flobberworms.

The twins groaned and sank down in their seats.

"But how do you know?" Ginny queried with only a hint of exasperation. Out of all those gathered, she actually seemed to be taking this the best, a surprising fact considering her last encounter with an heir of Slytherin.

Harry deftly dodged the question. "Let's just say that a little birdie told me." His face and lips twitched with unexpected mirth.

Hidden from prying eyes, tucked beneath the teenager's shirt, the Phoenix Gate ebbed from aqua to sapphire. Apparently, it was amused at being called "a little birdie."

Charlie actually laughed outright, tension easing. "You're not going to give us a straight answer about this, are you?"

"Oh, but I have given you several straight answers. I've told you only the truth so far," Harry dodged with a wicked smirk.

"You're just being coy, Harry Potter!" Hermione all but shouted, the frustration of the entire incident getting to her. Regardless, she went on in a far gentler tone, "I think that you're actually enjoying this. How very Slytherin of you," she accused with a lift of her eyebrows, her tone diffusing the situation.

Harry shrugged without a hint of remorse. "Alright then, I'll try to be more direct," he inserted easily. "Yes, I am related to Tom, distantly though. Yes, I am a descendent of Slytherin as well as an heir of Slytherin. That's where the Parseltongue really comes from. Yes, someone told me this, and I didn't just discover it on my own. No, I can't tell you who told me just quite. You'll just have to wait." His words brooked no argument, and his eyes looked at each of them in turn.

They shifted but didn't look away.

"Also – before you ask Hermione – yes, the person who told me is trustworthy, and I obviously believe them." Harry glanced at his female friend again. "Finally… no, Professor Dumbledore doesn't know," he added, forestalling the question he knew was coming. "He has no idea that there are decedents other than Tom. Voldemort himself doesn't even know, though he might suspect."

Remus looked confused. "Wait, if Albus doesn't know then who told you?"

"I'm sorry, but I just can't tell you yet." Harry actually looked saddened by the pronouncement. He glanced beseechingly at Remus, desperate for him to understand.

Thankfully, the werewolf nodded and gifted him a soft but reassuring smile.

"Are you going to tell him?" Hermione asked after a few heartbeats, referring to the headmaster.

Harry gave a sheepish and sad shaken of his head. "Not yet. We're still learning to re-trust one another. Besides," he added very quietly, "Professor Dumbledore has enough on his plate right now without having to worry about this.

* * *

**_Grimmauld Place, Harry's Room: August 15th, 1996_**

The week had passed quickly at Grimmauld place. If Harry wasn't researching with Hermione and Bill, looking into the Killing Curse, he was with Remus in the third floor study, learning about his parents and Sirius. Sometimes, he was also locked in with the twins, studying their experiments. Nights the teenager spent in secret and in his very own private room, courtesy of Molly Weasley. The Weasley matriarch had felt he could use the space, something he was thankfully for since she secretly thought that Harry and Ron shouldn't share a room.

There, he worked on polishing his remembered Occlumency skills, which were once again quite formidable. Or on the repertoire of spells he had acquired during his two lifetimes. Additionally, he spent time conversing with and learning from the Gate, which not only knew a great deal about magic and such but also helped him plan for the return of the other Founders.

The only breaks in the sixth-year's schedule were, of course, mealtimes and the almost daily visits he had with Professor Dumbledore. The headmaster had just wanted to talk with Harry, to improve their relationship and allow them to get to know one another in a setting other than school. The two touched on many topics, covering their interests and their childhoods, Harry being more honest about his than he ever thought possible. The two had also gone over Sirius' will and estate, both of which had been heatedly debated by the Ministry.

All in all, Harry's week had been incredibly busy and oddly fulfilling. Yet, the entire seven days could not compare to what today was going to be like. For today wasn't like the rest of the week. No, today was different. There would be no researching, no reminiscing, and no strange inventions. Though there might still be a meeting with Professor Dumbledore… or Albus, as he had asked Harry to call him.

Today was a special day, and Harry Potter was nervous, dreadfully nervous. For today was the day. Today was the day that he finally got to see her, Luna. His Siobhan. She would be here any moment. Well, both she and Neville would be here at any moment.

However, here in laid the problem.

He, Harry Potter, had no idea what to do. He was going to see her and actually get to speak to her. He was actually going to see Luna and talk with her, something he hadn't done since his memories resurfaced.

Still, there was a slight problem because for the life of him Harry had no idea what to say.

* * *

AN: I just wanted to say that I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. I loved the Minerva McGonagall who appeared in the fifth book. She was feisty, fun, and willing to defend her cubs, not to mention actually listen to them (cough Philosopher's Stone cough).

**Here are a few more things I want you guys/girls to think about**: La Muerte was the founder of Siobhan's clan, meaning that all of them descend from her and her husband, and they get all of their abilities from her also. Also, La Muerte is an alias, not her real name. No one knows what she was originally called.

Solaris was older than Salazar and was married at the time of his death, but it is unknown if he ever had children. Siobhan was blocked from contacting Sal after he died, just as she was blocked from contacting her relatives. Further, no one knows who killed Sal's parents, Solaris, or Siobhan's clan. The Order of the Phoenix existed during the time of the Founders and was lead by one of them, obviously not Godric.

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby_ for the beta.

_Chapter __Seventeen: The Lovely, Lovely Luna_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**06/07/08**


	18. The Lovely, Lovely Luna

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: The Lovely, ****Lovely Luna**

**_Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, Harry's Room: August 15th, 1996_**

Harry stared. His mouth wanted to hang open, but somehow, it magically seemed to stay shut. He had not expected her to be here so early. He cast a discreet glance at the clock on his desk. Yes, she was most definitely early.

He had to fight a slight scowl as he felt his half of the Gate heat up under his shirt as if it were trying to say, "Whoops, I suppose I should have mentioned that she was coming earlier."

The teenager mentally rolled his eyes; he was going to have to have a strict talking to with the Gate later on. Shaking his head, he turned back to the task at hand.

"Well," Harry began, turning to look at the young lady standing in his doorway. He rose from his feet respectfully but did not approach her. "This is… it is…"

"It's a bit awkward," Luna supplied with a slight smile as she came into the room, closing the door behind her. She whipped out her wand and quickly cast Silencing spells. She, too, had apparently removed the Ministry tracking charms.

Harry nodded. "Well, yes, to be frank. It is… with us being what – who we were," he went on, still gazing at her. He finally flicked his own wand, creating an extra seat from a spare sheet of parchment, which he immediately offered to her.

The blonde's smile widened as she sat, but not before she tucked her wand behind her ear. He smirked faintly at the action, resuming his seat as well. The two lapsed into a silence, which was surprisingly not uncomfortable.

They simply studied each other, noting the differences from their last encounter. Harry was taller now, though not by much, and his hair had grown quite a bit, almost but not quite touching the middle of his shoulders. It was still messy but not nearly as much as it had been when it was shorter. It was very reminiscent of his look when he was Salazar, though it had been more than a bit longer then. Luna secretly and quite correctly thought that his returned memories might have prompted him to magically make it grow.

Additionally, the sixth-year's eyes now seemed greener, much more like the color of Slytherin House than ever before. The emerald irises further held a sparkle and a glow, two things that she remembered were distinctive of Salazar. His eyes were also much more readily visible now since he had transfigured his bulky frames into nice wire ones, ones so thin as to be almost invisible.

Further, he was dressed more richly than Luna had ever seen him with the exception of a picture of Ginny's she had seen, one that featured him in his dress robes. He was wearing Muggle clothing, but it was quite respectable, much more so than the usual cast-offs he dressed in. Undoubtedly, he had liberally used his wand on his wardrobe as well, ensuring that his attire was more appropriate in nature.

On the other side, Luna was slightly taller also, and she had filled out more, now with soft curves that belied her actual strength. Her hair had picked up more silver highlights, something that hadn't been readily apparent last year, and it was now nearly identical to Siobhan's. It created an interesting contrast with the peach-colored radish earrings, lavender dress, and sky blue with pink polka-dots shoes she had. Like always, her bottle-cap necklace hung around her throat, but Harry could see the faint outline of another chain. Undoubtedly, where her half of the Phoenix Gate currently resided.

"So," she murmured after a moment of quiet staring.

"So?" he questioned back almost instantly.

"Well," they both said together before stopping to allow the other to speak.

Harry gestured for her to continue. "Go on."

Luna shook her head. "No, you go on," she shot back pleasantly.

"Oh, no… ladies first. I insist." He exhaled, enjoying the reprieve from the discussion he knew was to come.

The young woman looked at him strangely. "That is the rule now, but it wasn't then," she commented, taking an oblique route to the problem that currently plagued them. "Many things have changed since then, have they not?" Her tone was firm, if hesitant.

Harry sighed. "Then… right. Many things have changed," he muttered, finally dredging up the willpower to discuss what he had been dreading. "Then… then we were… something… **someone** else."

A pair of crystalline eyes studied him rather intently. "Yet, in a great many ways, we still are them. We've always been; we just didn't realize it," she commented and brushed a strand of hair from her face.

"Are we?" he questioned. "Are we really? Or have we changed?" He breathed out, fighting the urge to rise to his feet and pace across the room.

"Yes," the blonde replied simply enough. "But that isn't really the problem, is it?"

"No." Harry shook his head. "And truthfully, I already know the answer." He hesitated for several heartbeats not saying anything, merely gazing at Luna with a look of intense concentration. "In many ways I think we are the same," he said finally, "but so much has happened that I fear we're too different." He inhaled and looked away. "I missed out on so much," he whispered more to himself than to her.

"What?" She glanced at him in confusion.

"Your life… Tristan's life… I missed so much of them," he clarified. "I died… and you lived… and kept living. I missed all of that," the reborn Slytherin added, voice lost and uncertain. He lowered his head, staring down at nothing.

"But none of that matters, Harry," Luna asserted, but it did nothing to dispel his melancholy. "Harry, I don't care about that," she attempted again. The witch sighed, wracked with indecision, but deep down, she knew what she needed to say. "I… I think that I still love you. Not that odd at all considering I know us to be soulmates."

Harry's head whipped up. "You **think** that you still love me?" he asked incredulously, green eyes very wide. Unexpectedly, he rose to his feet and began to pace. "Well… to be perfectly honest, I think that I still do as well." He ran a hand over his face and allowed it to linger there. "But… but that's not the point!" He stopped in the middle of the floor, facing her.

"What is the point then?" she questioned, heat leeching into her voice and also rising to her feet. "Please explain it to me because I'm having trouble following your logic." She gestured at him fiercely.

Harry grimaced and shook with frustration. "The point is that I don't know you anymore! The point is that you outlived me by seven – almost eight – decades… seventy-eight years of your life that I know absolutely nothing about!" Harry all but shouted, emphasizing his points with his hands. He was trembling now. And he knew it but didn't care. "The point is that we barely know each other as we are now." He stared at her bleakly, beseechingly. "For the sake of the Maker, Luna, I barely even know you in this time. I couldn't tell you the name of your mother, what your favorite color is, or anything else like that. We're friends, but that is it."

She gazed back at him, her own eyes wide. The blonde was completely shocked by his tirade. She had also thought about those things, but she had dismissed them. She hadn't realized that they were affecting him so deeply.

Luna took a tentative step forward. "First of all, my mother's name was Thea, and my favorite color is orange. Light orange, mind you," the blonde put in. "Well, actually more of a peach color…" seeing Harry's startled expression, she trailed off. "Anyway," she picked up her real point of this conversation, "nothing says that has to keep us apart." The young woman responded, approaching him, "Nothing says that we can't learn about one another again." She stepped close to him, mere inches away. "The details might be different now, but the foundation is still the same," she murmured, knowing that he heard every word. "I am still me, and you are still you. The rest doesn't matter."

"It doesn't?" he asked hopefully, sounding much younger than he actually was.

Luna smiled up at him, inching even closer. "No. We're Slytherins… well, **the** Slytherins to be more precise. We're Salazar and Siobhan. We have a connection; we're soulmates, don't ever forget that now," she affirmed, recalling their interesting discovery of that particular fact. "And the Gate ties us together," she stated, showing her half of the amulet.

She gently reached forward and grasped the chain around Harry's neck, lifting the artifact that it held. Luna slowly put the two pieces back together, holding so that they looked to be a whole.

"See. Two parts of the same thing. Still the same because the details don't matter."

Harry exhaled very slowly. "The same… two parts of a whole." He paused, thinking it over. "It's different, but we're still us," he repeated and looked at her directly. "But we can only go forward. We can't completely be as we were, not yet at least. I don't think either one of us could handle that, but I would… I would like to get to know you again." He shifted nervously. "What do you say?" he queried, green eyes hopeful.

Luna grinned. "I know that I have made my views on that pretty clear, but what about you?" she directed back at him easily. "What do you think?" She gazed up at him.

"I…" He hesitated for a moment before moving to take her hand in his. "I think that we should just see where this leads us," he replied, squeezing her hand. He tentatively reached forward with his senses, tapping into his latent Empathy and desperately searching for hope.

"I think that I would like that." Luna smiled.

Her eyes lit knowingly, as if she knew exactly what Harry was doing, which she probably did. She leaned forward until her face was just inches from his. She inhaled before pressing her lips against his, giving him a chaste kiss. The witch pulled back before either of them did anything they might not regret. However, she didn't get far before Harry tugged her back gently. He grinned at her mischievously before quickly stealing another kiss. A longer and lingering kiss.

After a minute, they pulled back.

Quirking an eyebrow, Luna spoke. "I thought that we were just seeing where this was going."

Harry sheepishly grinned. "Yeah… well, I couldn't resist, and… well…"

"Well, what?" she questioned when he failed to continue.

He shrugged. "I just wanted to see if it still felt the same after all this time. If it felt like before." He lifted a hand and caressed her face, fingertips trailing over her skin.

Luna leaned into his touch. "Did it?" A finger traced her lips.

Harry chuckled. "It did."

* * *

**_Grimmauld Place, Harry's Room: August 16th, 1996_**

"Kreacher," Harry called, looking up from the book of spells he and Luna were examining. "Kreacher," he beckoned again and waited for the house-elf to appear. The teenager couldn't help but sigh as he summoned the creature, remembering the circumstances that had brought him into Harry's service.

Just a week previous, Albus had finally managed to cut through the last of the Ministry red tape and obtained Sirius' will from the Goblins. The endeavor had been quite a difficult one as Sirius was still technically a wanted criminal, regardless of the fact that he was now dead, and the Ministry felt it their due to confiscate his property. The only thing that had prevented them from doing such was the Goblins themselves, who were actually in charge of Sirius' estate and who insisted that it now all belonged to someone else, due to the Animagus' death.

Sirius was the last of the Blacks, the name at any rate, since all three of his female cousins had decided to take their husbands' names, and his brother was now dead. Yet, the man had no children of his own, no biological children that is. Harry was his godson, the child he had always wanted and the son he had wished was his own. Harry was one person Sirius loved more than anything else, even his own life.

All of this had cumulated into one thing: Sirius had made Harry his heir. His only heir.

Harry had learned all of this in a letter composed by his godfather in case of his death or re-imprisonment. It was a letter filled with emotions and with all the things Sirius had always wanted to tell him but had never had the courage to say. The young wizard learned of the Animagus' love for him, how he saw Harry not as a James replacement. But as a son, a much beloved and cherished son. He discovered Sirius' wish to adopt him once his name was cleared, even if it was years later and Harry was already an adult. The man had wanted him to be his son in name as well as by love. And yet, they had never had the chance to make it legal, so the teenager remained his godson and would for the rest of forever.

Regardless, the fact that Harry was not his legal son had not stopped Sirius from naming him heir, an act that had actually occurred when Harry was still in his infancy. As such, the young man had inherited everything, including the Black properties, their various vaults, and of course anything else they possessed. Basically, this now meant that Sirius' sort-of murderer was now under the control of his much beloved good-as-son.

Harry Potter, however, possessed a compassion that surprised even Albus. The sixth-year had not harmed the house-elf, though he was angry enough to do so. Instead, he forgave the creature, deciding to give him another chance at life, just as he himself had been given one.

But the creature had been a little less than cooperative in the endeavor, at least in the beginning. The house-elf had screeched like a Banshee as soon as he heard Harry's first order, having no choice but to obey. And he had not stopped screaming. He had just kept shrieking and screeching for hours on end. The young man had tried to order him to stop, but the sound was so horrendous he had been forced to clasp his hands over his ears, temporarily distracted from making the ruddy creature stop. Suddenly, it had dawned on Harry just as he was about to command Kreacher to cease; he had known one thing that was guaranteed to shut the menace up.

All it had taken to quiet Kreacher were a few simple words… a few simple words in Parseltongue, that is. Yes, the snake language was enough to stop the house-elf's shrieking and make him freeze in his tracks. The little being had simply eyed his master in wonderment before throwing himself on the floor at the young man's feet, eager to serve.

The tactic had been so effective in quieting the house-elf that Harry had decided to use it on Mrs. Black as well. The old bat had stopped mid-scream, staring at him. Immediately, she had started babbling, vowing in a voice loud enough for all to hear that Harry was a true and welcomed heir of the House of Black. She had actually smiled at him, showing him her blackened teeth, and had declared her undying devotion. Apparently, possessing Slytherin's gift was among the highest honors to the Black family, and Harry secretly shuddered when he imagined what the old bat would do if she ever discovered he was the reincarnation of her House's founder.

The dark-haired wizard was pulled out of his reverie seconds later as there was a slight pop. The house-elf magically appeared.

"Yes, Master," he whispered bowing deeply, a stark change from his behavior last year. The house-elf rose up slightly before turning and repeating the action to Luna, who looked at him sadly.

"I have a task for you, Kreacher," Harry said pleasantly enough. He sighed when he saw the kneeling position the house-elf had taken, and he motioned for him to rise, which he did with slow reluctance. "Kreacher," the wizard continued, "I'm searching for a room… a particular type of room. I want it hidden, one that the Order is unaware of."

Kreacher eyed him with a faint bit of happiness. "Master wants to be doing things away from prying eyes, away from thoses eyes of the nasty traitors, the unholy heathen. Oh, I know of such a place, Master," he finished joyfully, hoping that his master was finally seeing the error of his ways.

Harry, however, sighed again. "Please, don't call them that." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Wait, didn't I ask you not to do that earlier?"

Kreacher smiled. "Oh, no, Master. You ordered me not to call them Mudbloods and blood-traitors. You did not say anything about nasty traitors or unholy heathen."

The teenager rolled his eyes, knowing he had set himself up for that one. The house-elf was nothing if not obedient to the letter of his orders most of the time.

"How about this then?" he suggested after a moment. "Please, don't call them anything you wouldn't call the portrait of Mrs. Black."

The house-elf's eyes widened, and he nodded slowly. "Yes, Master." He bowed again, lingering in that position before he suddenly remembered that his master didn't like it when he bowed either. "Will you be wanting to know more of the secret room now," he asked. "Because I musts warn you, Master, it has not been used in many years. Not since my poor mistress died," the little creature whispered the last part, fighting back a sob.

From her position to the side, Luna started to rise from her seat, but Harry waved her off. The young wizard silently flicked his wand, and with a few soft thoughts, he turned a spare quill into a handkerchief on the spot. He handed the embroidered cloth to Kreacher and patted him somewhat awkwardly on the shoulder. The house-elf blew his nose loudly. Thankfully, he didn't hand the handkerchief back.

"And who is to know of this?" Kreacher questioned, having finally recovered himself.

Harry's eyes flickered to the witch. "Only Luna and me for now. When we are in the room, make sure the others believe we are elsewhere."

"Yes, Master. I knows the perfect place. Just needs a bits of cleaning," Kreacher stated happily, bowing low once again.

The reborn Slytherin sighed but didn't try to correct him. "Thank you, Kreacher. I'd like for you to clean the room and the pathway to it as best you can without making it too obvious. Please, report back when you are done."

The little being beamed and bowed yet again before popping out of the room.

* * *

**_Grimmauld Place, Sirius' Secret Attic Room: August 31st, 1996_**

Harry ducked out of the way as a bright, red light went soaring through the space his head had just occupied. He smiled grimly and scuttled to the side, firing back his own purple-blue curse. He didn't have time to see if it connected, however, because he was already moving to the side to avoid another jinx. He opened up his mind, searching for her emotional center, something that would allow him to track her movements. The young man blindly aimed his wand in the direction his magical senses were telling him she was located and fired off a silently cast hex.

Harry smirked as he heard a muffled "oomph."

Rising to his feet, the sixth-year pivoted and approached from the side. He crept forward cautiously but froze as he heard the creak of a floorboard. The young wizard felt a tingle in the air and began to sidestep. Unfortunately, he wasn't quick enough, and the beam of silvery light nicked him, catching him in the side. Harry rolled onto the floor, his face contorting as he held back the chuckles the Tickling charm caused.

In the background, Harry heard Luna laugh as he fought his giggles. And after a second, when he had regained his concentration, he softly muttered the countercurse, effectively ending his torture.

'A Tickling charm to my side, right where I am most ticklish,' Harry thought wickedly. 'She should know by now that I really hate those,' he mentally added, recalling the past duels they had fought.

Harry and Luna had taken to dueling for hours at a time in the secret attic room Kreacher had shown them several weeks earlier. The pair had practiced some before coming to Grimmauld Place, but it was exceptionally difficult to duel oneself, so they hadn't really gotten far. The goal of their little skirmishes was to improve their reaction times and to generally improve their spellcasting abilities. Both things they would need in the future if they were to combat Voldemort and his merry band of henchmen.

Regardless, even using a secret location, the studious couple had encountered a few problems with the logistics behind their battles. First, they were rarely alone in the house, especially since their friends were still working on their various projects and often consulted with them. Even though their companions suspected the two of now being a couple, this excuse was not nearly enough to get them to back off. Second, neither were in a hurry to reveal that they knew how to remove Ministry tracers and that the Black mansion was warded against other means of magical detection. This would lead to many uncomfortable questions, and so they couldn't show their underage friends how to do so. Third, there simply wasn't enough time in the day to accomplish all of their goals, especially not if they wanted to ever sleep. But this last problem was easily solvable as they were aided and abetted by the powers of the Phoenix Gate, which allowed them to make the most of the time given.

With everything now worked out, the two had also gone over their respective repertoires of spells. While the two were relatively equal on the amount of time they had had access to their returned memories since the Gate had not revealed Luna's past to her until she was emotionally mature enough to handle it, the witch still had a clear advantage in this area. She had lived much longer, after all. And as such, she had been forced to teach Harry a great many things.

Additionally, though they were ardently practicing, it was currently impossible for them to cast some spells due to the fact that they were so out of practice. Even further, some of the magic required skills that Harry and Luna could remember but could no longer perform, such as nonverbal and wandless spells. The two were stalwartly working, nonetheless, and were slowly but surely returning to the skill level they had once possessed.

The two were still refining their silent abilities at the moment, something they had once been quite skilled at. The pair also dabbled in wandless spells. However, they were having a much harder time in that area. Over six years of dependence on a wand, five in Luna's case, had left them grasping to do wandless magic. In their last lives, wands had been merely training tools or amplifiers of magic when one wanted to significantly increase the strength of the spell.

Yet now, people were taught that wandless magic was extremely difficult and rare; things that weren't actually true. Dependence on a wand was purely psychological. People believed they needed wands, so even though they really didn't require it, they were unable to perform magic without one. The few incidents where wandless magic was performed were usually times of great stress, when people were too distracted to focus on their **need** for a wand.

Wandless magic was not the extent of their dabbling though. Harry had taken to reviewing runic spells, something Salazar had been quite good at. This branch of magic was an offshoot of both wandless and silent magic and encompassed the drawing of runic symbols on various mediums, such as air, paper, or a magic object. This, in turn, could be done with one's fingers, a wand if so desired, or anything else that happened to be handy.

Additionally, the couple was also taking a slight foray into thought magic, the ability to simply think something into happening magically. As opposed to silent magic, which had a person think the words to the spell without actually saying them, thought magic had no preformed charms or curses. A person simply thought what they wanted done, and it would occur.

While all magical beings had the ability to perform magic in such a way, it was incredibly difficult to do so. Most of this difficulty, like that of wandless magic, stemmed from the way magic was taught. People were taught spells, words and motions, which were supposed to produce a particular result. But such things were not required to actually perform magic. Magic simply was. It could be directly and easily accessed, but many had problems understanding this concept. Further, many needed the words, just like they needed a wand. They believed that spells were the only way magic worked, so they could only do magic with an actual spell.

Spells had been originally designed to allow magical beings an easy way of performing and understanding a desired result. The words and movements simply defined the parameters and allowed the caster to make a mental pathway to magic. Every time those particular words and wand flicks were performed, a being's magic would automatically know what to do, creating the desired effect. Nevertheless, thought magic bypassed all of this because there were no words and there were few, if any, movements. A person had to directly connect to their power, much like what occurred during the accidental magic of children.

However, both Harry and Luna were having a great deal of trouble in this area. Neither one of them really had any experience in it to draw upon. Salazar had died before he could really begin to study the field, and Siobhan had simply not had the time to practice after her husband's death. Out of all the Founders, Quinn was surprisingly the most proficient, followed by Helga. Perhaps after they remembered, the two would provide some insight into it.

All told, both were doing rather well with their studies, all things considered. And even now, the couple was using their newly reacquired skills to duel one another. Though, it was still up in the air who was actually getting the most benefit out of the situation. It could be Harry, who was learning a number of new spells. Or even Luna, who had never really had cause to practice before the DA this time around. Or perhaps it was the Phoenix Gate. Since all it had to do was simply watch and enjoy.

Harry was dragged from his thoughts and dodged to the right just as another curse came flying towards him. Still, he wasn't fast enough, and the burst of pure, yellow light caught him in the shoulder. The young wizard grimaced and turned his wand to Luna, who rather surprisingly was not in a defensive position. She was simply staring at him, lips twitching.

He looked at her quizzically but silently summoned her wand to him just the same. However, the witch barely even reacted. She simply kept grinning.

Becoming increasingly confused, Harry opened his mouth to ask her what was the matter, but an almost unintelligible smattering of words came of out instead. Again, he tried to speak. And again, strange words came out in place of normal speech.

What by Circe had Luna cursed him with?

Harry opened his mouth to ask this question but immediately thought the better of it. Instead, he raised his eyebrows as if to inquire, "What've you done to me?"

The blonde laughed. "It's my new spell, silly. It only allows a person to speak in Haiku. If they try to speak more than the appropriate amount of syllables, the spell will cut them off," she informed him cheerfully, watching as his mouth dropped open and having to fight the giggle that threatened to come out. She felt a warmth flood her chest, knowing that her half of the Gate was laughing as well.

The other teenager raised his eyebrows in exasperation, silently asking Luna to lift the curse. She simply nodded and moved towards him.

"So how do you like my new creation?" she asked with a neutral tone, knowing he wouldn't want to answer.

Harry mocked-glared at her and pretended to pout. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her disdainfully, but he offered her wand back nonetheless.

The witch chuckled. "I take it that you like it then," she stated, fighting to keep herself contained. "Well, I've created a related spell, too," she responded, motioning for him to stand in front of her.

Despite his situation, Harry's face took on an expression of interest in her spellcrafting, gesturing for her to continue.

Luna grinned somewhat, flicking her wand in the countercurse. "That one forces a person to speak in Haiku, but unlike the original spell, it naturally makes them speak the appropriate number of syllables. It is rather like that Limerickcurse Umbridge was hit with last year," she continued, referring to an incident involving the then Defense professor, a supposedly miscast spell, and a class full of seventh-year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws.

"Oh, right," Harry said, finally regaining his ability to talk in normal sentences. "I vaguely remember the Weasley twins being involved in that particular occurrence. It was rather amusing though, Umbridge singing limericks all day until it wore off." He smiled wistfully at the memory.

However, the teenager suddenly yawned. "Oh, excuse me," he apologized.

"Quite alright, but perhaps we should go to bed," the blonde suggested. "Both of us are tired, and we will have a big day ahead of us tomorrow." She began to walk toward the door.

Harry nodded and grinned, following behind her. "That we do," he stated, knowing that they were to return to Hogwarts the next day. "I'm so looking forward to it, and I suppose that we should go to sleep," he acquiesced, reaching a hand into his shirt. He tapped the Phoenix Gate gently, letting it know that they were ready for it to end its spell, which had allowed them extra time to duel.

The Gate glowed in response, the phoenix carving unfurling his wings and chirping. It seiftly lifted the enchantment before the bird tucked its head under one wing, appearing as though it was going to sleep.

Luna and Harry exchanged a swift glance and a quick kiss before heading out the door and down the stairs.

* * *

_Haiku __Bakari_: Only Haiku. Verbal and non-verbal. Forces a person to speak only in Haiku. If they attempt to speak regularly, the spell will stop them at the appropriate number of syllables.

_Haiku __Hanasu_: Speak Haiku. Verbal and non-verbal. A person will speak in Haiku instead of normal speech.

Limerick curse: Verbal and non-verbal. A person will speak in limericks instead of normal speech.

AN: As you may or may not have noticed, I am not going for the Luna is really strange angle. She'll still be quirky, but I am going to tone it down a bit. I have a suspicion that most of it is an act or, if not an act, an exaggeration. I'm going for more of the Luna we saw after Sirius died, when she was having the discussion about the Veil with Harry. Further, Siobhan was quirky as well but not nearly as much as Luna is now. Most of this is because she changed after Salazar died and became more eccentric in the Dumbledore sort of way.

**Here's some more food for thought and a few things I just couldn't fit in with the storyline**: Since souls travel in families there is a good possibility that James, Lily, or someone else who has died could be reborn as the children of their relatives. Fleur Delacour was originally interested in Bill but decided that she liked Charlie better. She is now his girlfriend, but this will probably only be vaguely mentioned.

Amia Hawthorne's husband died when her children were very young. She eventually remarried after her they were grown and after her mysterious illness. It is unknown if she had children by her second marriage. Vampires can be born, or they can be turned, for lack of a better word. Dominic was born a vampire, but his parents are now deceased and have already been reborn into the next life.

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby_ for the beta.

_Chapter __Eighteen: Guardians of the Gate_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**06/08/08**


	19. Guardians of the Gate

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: Guardians of the Gate**

**_Unknown, The Throne Room: August 31st, 1996_**

The night before the train ride back to Hogwarts, Harry was rather surprised when he was pulled into a vision of Voldemort. He was doubly so when he remembered that he had meditated before bed, strengthening his shields just in case the Dark Lord decided to throw him a back to school bash. Regardless of the increased shielding, the teenager still managed to end up in Riddle's head.

And that probably was why his dream-self was standing barefoot and in his pajamas next to Voldemort's throne, a hazy fog obscuring almost everything else. Harry took one look at his attire before grimacing. His nightclothes were instantly replaced by dark-green robes with golden trim. The reborn Slytherin smirked but quickly sobered as he noted the fog creeping away, and everything came into clear view.

Tom stood in the center of the room, his Death Eaters cowering on the floor around him. Harry briefly wondered if Snape was here, but a stretching out of his magical senses confirmed that the Potions master was not. But then, he reasoned after a moment, it seemed as though this wasn't a full Death Eater meeting as only around two dozen were present. Perhaps the professor was away brewing for the Dark Lord, or maybe he hadn't been summoned at all.

And as for Riddle himself, he was currently questioning a Death Eater, occasionally hexing the unfortunate man. What surprised Harry, however, was that Voldemort didn't react to his presence. It was almost as if the Dark Lord didn't even know he was there. A few subtle Legilimency tricks later, and it became readily apparent to the young wizard that Tom Riddle truly had no idea. As such, the man was paying him no mind, not that he could see Harry to do so. Instead, the Dark Lord's attention was focused on one follower in particular, the man shaking as he tried to answer his master's demands.

"…the Department of Mysteries," Rookwood replied nervously, obviously fighting the urge to twitch.

Voldemort actually looked intrigued. "Explain," he commanded, idly flicking a curse at Goyle, who wasn't bowing low enough.

"The Department of Mysteries might have information or possibly even the Gate itself, my Lord," the Death Eater hurriedly explained. "Further, the text that we liberated from the library in Edinburgh mentioned Guardians of the Gate, people or possibly magical protectors. Some of the Unspeakables could be the Guardians, but we still are not sure what form the Gate takes."

"Could be?" the Dark Lord repeated, finally lifting the hex from Goyle. "Could be… not sure… I wanted definite answers, not just guesswork and conjectures." The serpent-like man stiffened with rage. "That is all you have?" he demanded in a cool voice, his fingers lovingly stroking his yew wand.

"No, my Lord," Rookwood hastened to add, beads of sweat racing down his pock-marked face. "It could possibly be the Veil, the one the Unspeakables are attempting to study," he clarified and shook in fear. "My old department head thought that the whispers around it might by the voices of the Guardians. Rev–He," Rookwood hastily corrected, not daring to name the traitor, "actually assigned me to research it before his disappearance, but we have no way of actually knowing if it is even the Gate until we can look at it. We'd have to determine if the correct runes are there and test its magic."

"Hm… Revan… always coming back to haunt us," Tom Riddle mused to himself for a moment, gazing off into the distance. He inhaled sharply then, coming back to himself. "The Veil, you say?" he questioned as his eyes flickered back to his follower, interest peaked once more.

"Yes, sire. The Veil, the one that Black fell through."

Hearing this, Harry instantly stiffened, but he deflated as realization of the earlier statements sunk through. 'They think that the Veil is the Phoenix Gate?' he realized suddenly, rather dazed by the irony of it all. 'They actually think that **the Veil is the Gate**!' he repeated, shaking his head. He slowly walked closer, the better to hear the continuing exchange.

Voldemort appeared to have temporarily forgotten Rookwood because a thoughtful expression crossed his serpentine face. He stood there silently for several moments, contemplating the new information and idly twirling his wand through his fingers. The motion was an odd one, identical to what the diary version of Tom Riddle had done and very similar to a habit Harry himself had acquired when his memories had returned. Apparently, it was just as much a mark of the Slytherin family as the Parseltongue.

The young wizard was snapped out of his reverie by the sudden sound of the Dark Lord's voice. "We will need to get into the Department again. However, with the increased security and Dumbledore's continuing protection of the area, we will need a… **distraction**." The snake-faced man smiled then, his lip-less mouth curving into a smirk. "And I know just when to do it," he finished, absentmindedly patting Rookwood on the head much as a person would pet a dog. "Dolohov!" Voldemort commanded with ill-hidden giddiness.

"Yes, my Lord," the burly man stated, kneeling even further to the ground.

The Dark Lord's red eyes flicked to him. "Step up the acquisition of specimens," he ordered, deftly not mentioning what the man was acquiring. Apparently, he did not want his other followers to know. "We will need more, several hundred at the least, and much sooner than we had planned."

The man nodded fiercely. "Y-yes, my Lord. We will obtain more immediately," he stuttered, shaking slightly. "When should we have them by, Sire?"

Voldemort grinned maliciously. "Before Samhain. We will be using them on Halloween."

His Death Eaters actually gasped, most stifling it to keep from being heard. "Halloween, Sire?" one incredibly brave, or stupid, follower ventured.

Voldemort quickly shot off a _Cruciatus _curse at the foolish man before continuing. "Yes, we will be using them as a bit of a distraction so that we can go through the department unnoticed." He chuckled briefly. "I think that Dumbledore and Potter will assuredly appreciate the **gift** I am sending them." He laughed then, the high and cold sound actually sending chills down Harry's spine.

Belatedly, his Death Eaters also laughed, but they were much too slow. The Dark Lord, apparently taking offense, began to fire curses at those closest to him. Voldemort continued disciplining his followers for some time, causing Harry to turn away. The teenager did not want to see or hear such things, but as he was stuck in the vision, he could not leave. His eyes immediately landed on a cloaked follower with their hood up on the far side of the room. He saw the person move somewhat, easing weight off of their knees, and a lock of long, midnight hair cascaded loose from inside their hood.

'A woman… Bellatrix,' Harry thought suddenly, all but running to her. He stood over the women, staring down at her. 'Sirius' cousin. His mur… his killer,' the young man corrected, remembering a realization he had had earlier in the summer.

During their duel, Bellatrix had repeatedly fired red spells, Stunners, but never once had she sent the Killing curse. She had only wanted to incapacitate Sirius; she hadn't meant to actually kill him, and Harry couldn't help but shake his head at the irony of it all. Sirius had escaped the Dark Lord several times, and he had avoided his hate-filled parents. He had gone on countless missions for the Order. For the sake of the Maker, he had survived Azkaban for almost thirteen years, only to die in an accident during a duel with his cousin.

Shaking his head once more, Harry moved closer to her, his magical senses tingling softly. He knelt next to Bellatrix, knowing that there was something odd about her. Harry could sense magic on her, very faint but powerful magic that was centering around her abdomen. It almost felt like multiple Protection and Shield spells intricately woven together to be incredibly powerful and all but undetectable, which was probably the work of additional concealing and masking charms.

Undoubtedly, the only reason Harry could see through their dissociating qualities was because he wasn't physically in room. With him as little more than an astral projection and with the charms on a different wavelength than normal, they didn't mask as effectively as they would have had he been physically present. But despite this, Harry was still very impressed by the craftsmanship and skill that had gone into the spellwork. It was clearly the work of a master because not even Voldemort was aware of it. Had he been, the Dark Lord would have most definitely dispelled it already, and Bellatrix would be the one currently writhing on the floor in agony.

Nonetheless, the true mystery was not the skill of the caster, but the reason the spells were even there. They were obviously meant to protect something, but what?

Carefully watching the magic's ebb and flow, Harry unexpectedly discovered that it wasn't meant to protect Bellatrix but someone else entirely. And shrugging his shoulders, the reborn Slytherin stretched out his magical senses and cast a silent spell with his astral wand, which had luckily come with him. A suspicion was forming in his mind, but he still needed to check. He reached out, only to instantly come back into himself as his suspicion was confirmed. The Protection spell was most definitely not meant for Bellatrix. It was meant for her child.

After inhaling sharply, the teenager simply stared at her for a minute. Finally coming out of his daze, he discreetly glanced back at Voldemort just to be on the safe side.

Yes, he was still disciplining, read torturing, his followers.

Shaking his head, he turned back to the woman, thinking over his insight. As Harry mused, he belatedly noticed the female Death Eater stir beside him. He turned to look at her more fully, noting her eyes flickering around rather oddly. The young man bent down closer to her and saw her shiver again, as though chilled. However, he didn't have a chance to investigate her bizarre behavior because he felt a slight pull behind his navel. The tugging quickly became more insistent.

'No, not now,' the sixth-year thought furiously, trying to hang on.

Yet, even as he fought, he knew it was useless; he was waking up. He fought even harder, straining. A faint growl of frustration escaped his lips.

And suddenly, Bellatrix gazed up in his direction as if she had heard the earlier sound, looking not through him but **at** him. Her eyes widened, and she had to stifle a gasp. She quickly cast her eyes about to see if anyone had notice her reaction or their unexpected guest.

"Potter?" she murmured with shock, careful even then not to be overheard by the other Death Eaters.

But Harry barely had time to even register her words or the emotions swirling through her before he was dragged from the room.

Just as he was pulled away he could have sworn her heard her whisper desperately, "Please, help me!"

* * *

**_Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, Kitchen: September 1st, 1996_**

The following morning was complete chaos in pure Weasley fashion. Neither Ron nor Ginny were finished packing, so they had to all but throw their possessions in their trunks. Fred and George, who were living above their shop, had stayed over the night before and were causing a great deal of mayhem for the returning students. Hermione had disappeared for half an hour as had Bill, only to return looking completely disheveled with suspiciously swollen lips. Neville, on the other hand, seemed to have no problems and was quietly sitting in the kitchen with a faintly bemused Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, Remus, and Charlie, sipping tea.

Harry and Luna also managed to avoid most of the chaos as they had used their wands to pack their things the night before. The only problem for him that morning was trying to find the opportunity to drag the blonde away and relate his strange vision. Eventually he managed to do so, but the pair barely had time to even discuss the possible ramifications before Remus was calling them downstairs.

The pair entered the kitchen hand in hand, Tonks snickering a little when she noticed, their trunks shrunken and in their pockets. They approached the gathered group, who moved over for them, and made sure that at least one finger was on the Portkey that was to take them to the station. It was the same phoenix feather Harry had used to come to Grimmauld Place. Molly Weasley made certain that everyone, students and guards alike, was touching the Portkey before she said the activation word.

Harry felt a pull behind his navel before he was unceremoniously slammed feet first onto the compartment floor. Rather miraculously, he managed to stay standing. He, Bill, and Luna were the only three under thirty-five who had done so. He quickly cast his eyes about as the other picked themselves up off the floor, seeing that they were indeed where they were supposed to be, inside of the Hogwarts train.

The adults glanced around quickly, making sure that they were the only ones there. Afterwards, there were several lingering goodbyes, multiple hugs from Molly Weasley as well as one from Remus with a promise to write to the werewolf, a few pats on the back from Gred and Forge, a kiss on the cheek from Tonks, a handshake from Bill, and the guards were off to check the security of the station. Minutes ticked by, the view outside their windows slowly filling with parents and students. Soon enough, they were joined by Dean, who gave Ginny a lingering kiss hello as Ron watched their interaction, his face reddening. Hermione simply laughed. Harry merely shook his head, exchanged an exasperated glance with Luna, and watched as the train pulled a way from the station.

Conversation soon started, and the group only talked about light subjects, not covering any of their plans because Ron was in the compartment with them, and they were still not entirely sure what was going on with him. According to what Harry had been able to pry from Minerva on one of her many briefs visits to the Headquarters, the brains from the Department of Mysteries had had a lasting effect on his redheaded friend. Still, no one was really sure what that effect encompassed. For all they knew. Ron could simply be feeling depressed and out of sorts. But on the other hand, he could also be possessed by the soul of a fifteenth century Hufflepuff serial killer bent on world domination through means of mind control pansies as Fred and George had been quick to point out. Basically and all told, they just had no idea. It wasn't that Ron was untrustworthy. Surprisingly, at least to Ginny, he normally was, but he was compromised. And until they knew by what, they couldn't tell him anything.

It wasn't until the Prefect meeting, which Ron and Hermione both attended, that they were able to speak freely. Ginny quickly and discreetly rounded up her summer correspondents and recruits, bringing them to the now bewitched compartment, where they wouldn't be overheard. Luna had done a rather nice job of expanding it so they would thankfully all fit. All in all, the redhead's quick trip was a success because she managed to bring all but Athena Avis, the new fifth-year Gryffindor Prefect, who had to attend the meeting.

Harry, taking the leadership role, quickly filled them in on the pertinent summer discoveries and their new goals, which no longer included direct plots against the headmaster. He readily mentioned that he planned to start the DA again, regardless of how good the new Defense professor was, for the simple reason that they were at war and needed all the experience they could get. However, while it would remain a mostly closed group, the DA would be expanded, adding only those they could trust to be on their side and getting rid of those they couldn't. Harry also mentioned that the curriculum for the DA was now slightly changed, growing to include subjects outside of just Defense and now encompassing battle magics. The dark-haired wizard further described their other goals, such as finding and researching new spells for the DA. He also stated that they would be looking into the last war with Voldemort and trying to determine the most effective strategies against him.

Afterwards, he yielded the floor to Luna, who discussed their growing distrust of the corrupt Ministry. She additionally mentioned that they would be digging further into the government and that they would most likely expose a good deal of the corruption. She dreamily added that the_ Quibbler_ would be perfect for this, especially since its subscription numbers were up, and many people now viewed the magazine as mostly honest, if a bit eccentric.

Briefly, Ginny, who was now adding to the discussion as well, stated that they would continue their efforts to convince students and others outside of the school that neither the Ministry nor the Death Eaters were the way to go. She also mentioned that she had already convinced Tonks to help them and that the Auror was going to work on Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mad-Eye Moody.

It was shortly thereafter that the Prefect meeting was scheduled to let out, so Dean, taking his cue and following his instructions, went to head Ron off. The dark-skinned wizard was to distract the other boy and keep the redhead from returning so that they could continue their discussion.

Within minutes of Dean's departure, Hermione and Athena were just sitting down in the compartment. Harry was just about to launch into an explanation of their plan when he let out a great yawn.

"Excuse me," he apologized sheepishly. "I'm a bit tired."

Luna had to fight a smile. "I am as well, come to think of it," she added softly.

Hermione looked at the two of them suspiciously for a second, her eyes darting back and forth between them. "Why don't the two of you have a nap then? I'm sure that we can fill Athena in."

"Are you sure?" the young man asked, yawning once more.

Harry had discreetly cast a Yawning spell on himself several moments earlier. He had a meeting later tonight with Dom and would be exceptionally tired in the morning if he didn't sleep. Of course, the only time for him to rest was on the train. Nonetheless, he hadn't mentioned the meeting to anyone but Luna. Hence the necessity for the spell.

"Oh, go ahead and sleep, Harry," Hermione admonished him with a shake of her head. "I can tell Athena and fill in the details for everyone else."

Harry fought a grin. "If you insist," he said, leaning back against the seat.

He turned his head and cast a sly wink at his girlfriend, who smiled back dreamily. Settling in for a nap, he soon began to drift off. The blonde gazed at him for a minute longer before leaning against the wall of the compartment, pillowing her head on her hands.

Just as Harry drifted off, he heard the soft talking of the others. Hermione carefully going over the details once more.

He was poked awake sometime later by a smiling Prefect. "We're almost there, Harry. It'll only be a few minutes. Good thing you already put on your robes," Hermione finished, lips twitching.

He tried to shift his left around, but it wouldn't budge. Deciding it was asleep, he gave up the attempt and merely glanced back at his fried. She was looking at him strangely, and he returned the expression, clearly puzzled. His bright, green eyes traveled around to the other people in the compartment, noting Ginny and Athena grinning like loons in his direction, Neville laughing at him, and Hermione now smirking. Finally, Harry's attention turned to Luna, and the teenager was surprised to note that she was fast asleep, her head on his left shoulder. Apparently, she had shifted to lean on him sometime during the trip.

'No wonder I couldn't move it,' Harry thought, shaking his head in disbelief.

He leaned forward and gently shook his girlfriend awake. With a slight inhalation she opened her eyes and gazed up at him. Her expression seemed to say, "Good afternoon, Mr. Potter." However, she simply smiled and said nothing. She instead sat up and adjusted her robes.

Just as Harry was about to speak to her, the train began to slow, coming to a stop. The group exchanged glances before rising and stepping out of the compartment into the crowd. The reborn Salazar hung by Luna as they exited the train, keeping by her elbow as they came into the station.

"Remember the plan," he whispered to her.

"Yes," she murmured back, stepping around a Hufflepuff third-year. "We have to get a carriage to ourselves, but how are we to get the others from following us?"

Harry shrugged and glanced around. He suddenly smiled as his eyes lit as they landed on Hermione. He quickly stepped to her and rapidly whispered, "Hermione, Luna and I are taking a carriage to ourselves." The bushy-haired witch gazed at him skeptically, but he was prepared for that. "We want some time alone before we get back to Hogwarts. We won't really have much of a chance during school," he put in smoothly.

"Alright," she finally acquiesced after a second of soul-searching. "But you and I need to talk later, Harry," she continued, and he knew that there was a discussion about his relationship with Luna in his future.

The wizard nodded and moved back to his girlfriend, who in the meantime had inconspicuously approached a carriage and spelled it with a Repelling charm. Now, no one else would want to ride with them either.

The two moved inside, but not before petting the Thestrals, and shut the door behind them. The couple sat next to each other, and as the carriages moved toward the castle, they prepared for what they surely knew would come, they were preparing for a hell of a welcome back from the castle.

For Hogwarts was a very special castle indeed. She was not just sentient. Oh, she was far more than that. Hogwarts Castle, the famous School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was ensouled.

They hadn't intended to do so, to create a castle with a soul. It had just happened, rather unexpectedly. It was much like the ensoulment of the Sorting Hat, which is to say that it was a complete and total accident. But then, Quinn had reasoned that that was exactly what living creatures did when they reproduced. They formed the shell, the body, and then a soul filled it.

Regardless of this rather dry explanation, however, Harry couldn't help but feel that there was more to it. That the entire process was far more special than that. Hogwarts was a wonder, a marvel, a living thing with feeling and emotions.

And two of her creators, two of her parents, were coming home. She was bound to be excited.

Hogwarts would, undoubtedly, be very ecstatic to see them once again, especially since they now remembered the past. Yet, Harry had this sneaking suspicion that the castle would be a bit overenthusiastic with her greeting, which was both a rather good and a rather bad thing.

It was good in the sense that they had missed her and were very eager to see her again. They dearly loved the castle, much like one would love a child. Still, it was bad in the sense that she was filled with magical energy, and when she was deeply feeling an emotion, say happiness… well, the magic tended to be a bit too much.

For all Harry and Luna knew, she would most likely knock them out. Or at least, daze them. This, of course, would be exceptionally hard to explain if there were any witnesses, so the happy couple had conspired to ensure that there were none.

The reborn Salazar gazed out of the window as he felt them draw near the boundaries of the wards. As the carriage approached, he reached out and took his girlfriend's hand. He also swiftly shored up his Occlumency walls, the ones designed to hold his latent Empathy in check. It wouldn't do to be totally overwhelmed by Hogwarts, now would it?

"Are you ready?" he asked, squeezing her fingers.

The wards were just meters away.

Luna answered just as they crossed the boundary, "As I'll ever be."

And it felt as though there was an explosion of joy in his head. He felt a strong mental presence wrap around him, and it was like being held by a mother, like having a father look at him in pride, like have a sibling whisper jokes to him all at the same time. He felt safe, happy. And most importantly, he felt complete.

He was whole again. The part of him that he hadn't even realized was missing was now there. He had his family back, though most of them didn't even realize it yet. But they would soon. And that was all that mattered. Almost all of his family was here, at Hogwarts. Only Helga, Edmund, and a few of the other Hufflepuff family members weren't. But Harry knew where they all were, all save Solaris. Yet, even the loss of his brother wasn't enough to completely dispel his mood.

Another wave of bliss descended upon him, and the reborn Salazar knew that Hogwarts had sensed his momentary sadness. The sensation was almost overwhelming in its intensity, but he sensed that the castle was purposely trying to keep from hurting them. But she was just so happy that they were back and that they remembered and that they wouldn't leave her again.

Slowly, the almost overpowering sensations diminished, but Hogwarts' presence didn't. She merely settled herself in a secure corner of Harry's mind, occasionally sending bursts of joy his way. Exhaling slowly, he recovered himself, sitting up and wondering how he had managed to sprawl over the seat. In the excitement, the teenager had still managed to hold his Occlumency walls, but it was near thing. Hogwarts thankfully hadn't overloaded his Empathy either, something for which he would be forever grateful.

Shaking his head, he focused his glazed eyes and looked at Luna, who was bonelessly leaning on the seat and smiling dreamily. The blonde noticed his gaze and managed to steady herself. The young man didn't even want to know what they had looked liked moments ago, probably as though they had been on an all night drinking binge, but the two were both wearing identical dazed expressions. He would have hated to have his friends see them like this because it would have led to many awkward questions.

Several more moments passed, with the pair slowly sobering up, for lack of a better word. Just as they approached the castle, they finally managed some semblance of normalcy and cast a few quick charms to freshen their appearances. With their mussed hair and wrinkly robes, they would have undoubtedly given people the wrong idea about what they had been doing all alone in the carriage.

A few minutes later, Harry and Luna were inside the castle, which was still buzzing at the back of their minds, and heading for the Great Hall. Just inside the door, he gave her hand one final squeeze goodbye before they moved for their respective tables. He sat quickly on the end closest to the Head Table, just between Hermione and Ginny and directly across from Neville. The reborn Slytherin cast an inconspicuous glance at the High Table, catching Dominic's eye. The newest teacher was sitting quietly beside Madam Pomfrey and the ever-excitable Charms professor, nodding every now and then to something Flitwick was saying. He winked briefly to Harry before quickly moving on, not wanting anyone to notice their exchange.

The teenager in turn fought the smile that threatened to blossom on his face, having received Dom's brief message via Legilimency. That one look had conveyed all Harry needed to know.

"_It is good to see you. Tonight is still a go; meet me in the Sorting Hat's room. Hogwarts will show you the way_."

Harry could practically feel the man's excitement about the meeting, which would be their first true face-to-face exchange.

The sudden sound of the Great Hall doors opening and the sight of Minerva followed by the first-years, brought Harry back to the here and now. He watched as the witch led them up to the three-legged stool and the calmly waiting Hat atop it.

The Sorting Hat peered at the gathering intently, as if it were trying to look into their very souls, though it didn't even have eyes. Its nonexistent gaze seemed to travel around the Hall briefly before settling on Professor McGonagall. It gave her a little bow, and finally, an opening appeared on the brim.

_I am the Sorting Hat.  
And I'll sort you without fail.  
But before I do my work tonight,  
Let me tell you a little tale._

_It is a sad, sad story,  
Oh, this is very true,  
Of witty and clever Slytherin  
And mighty Gryffindor, too._

_Two great friends they once were  
Brothers in everything but name.  
Yet, something came between them,  
And nothing was ever the same._

_It tore them both apart,  
And I am ashamed to say,  
Twas jealousy, the foul beast,  
That led one of them astray._

_Twas Gryffindor who utterly faltered  
For all the world to see,  
Becoming a cowardly traitor,  
Forsaking his vaunted chivalry._

_You see, sly and fair Slytherin  
Found love and took a wife.  
Yet, Godric craved her, too,  
So he took dear Salazar's life._

_And filled with envious rage,  
He carefully crafted his attack.  
He crept upon his friend one day  
And stabbed him in the back._

_And so the Hogwarts four  
Became the Hogwarts three  
With Salazar now forever lost  
And Godric crowing with unholy glee._

_But in the end, all was for naught,  
And he set us on a path quite grim.  
For what he desired never came to pass,  
And the future became so very dim._

_And so the unity of the Houses  
Crumbled into naught but dust,  
Never again to come together.  
But fix this we surely must._

_Evil times once more approach.  
Dark and Light again must be one.  
We have to come together now,  
Or we're finished before we've begun._

_So heed my parting words  
We must unite if we are to win.  
Now, sit back, enjoy…  
And let the Sorting begin!_

The Great Hall was deathly silent as the Sorting Hat finished its song, staring at them once more. All of the students, as well as the teachers, were completely frozen, shocked by what they had heard.

In turn, Harry fought to keep his mouth from dropping open; never in a million years had he expected the Sorting Hat to sing about that! He shivered at the thought, his own murder still clearly troubling him. He flickered his widened eyes to Luna, noting her equally astonished expression. Next, they drifted to the Head Table, bemusedly taking in the appearance of the teachers.

The only three with some semblance of calm were Boyd, Snape… and Trelawney! Harry assumed that the vampire had been forewarned about the song, while Snape's time as a spy allowed him to school his features. The young wizard had no idea why Trelawney didn't seem surprised, and a quick check with Empathy confirmed that she wasn't. Nor did he understand why she was faintly smirking, while her shoulders shook with silent laughter. In fact, he didn't even know why she was there in the first place; she rarely came to the Great Hall for meals, and this was the first time he could remember seeing her during one of the feasts. Harry was a bit wary and more than a bit skeptical, but the nearest he could figure was that Trelawney had "seen" that this would happen and had come to enjoy the show as it were.

As for the rest of the faculty, they were in various stages of shock. Hagrid's mouth was hanging open, his eyes bulging. Professor Flitwick had toppled out of his chair and was sitting in a heap on the floor. Minerva's hat had fallen off her head, and her hands clutched the first year roll so tightly that her knuckles were white, horribly wrinkling the list. Even Dumbledore seemed surprised. The headmaster's hands were frozen mid-air, as though he was about to clap but had forgotten to complete the action. His normally twinkling eyes were stilled and very wide.

Finally, the Great Hall began to show signs of life, Professor Dumbledore recovering first. He set his hands down and stood, peering down at everyone. Instantly, Minerva snapped out of her daze, glancing at the headmaster. A wordless exchange passed between the two before the Transfiguration professor finally nodded firmly and quickly bent down to retrieve her hat.

Harry watched the exchange with interest, the song still ringing in his ears. Yet, the sudden warmth of the Phoenix Gate under his robes kept him firmly rooted in reality.

The sound of the deputy headmistress' voice immediately jarred the other older students into awareness and a myriad of whispers could be heard at every table. From beside him, Harry heard Hermione, Neville, Ron, and Ginny launch into a rapid discussion about the meaning and the validity of the song. However, he did not join in because he knew that it was nothing but the truth. He instead chose to watch Minerva, who actually had to raise her voice to be heard over the noise.

"Abbott, Costello," she repeated.

And a brunet first-year started. The boy hesitantly approached the Sorting Hat, as though he were actually afraid of it, before sitting on the stool.

"HUFFLEPUFF."

And he rapidly removed the Hat, but he didn't move for a table. Unfortunately for him, there was no cheering from his new House to guide him to a seat. The students at the aforementioned table hadn't even notice his dilemma, much less the fact that they had a new member, since they were too busy discussing the Hat's song.

Finally, Minerva, rolling her eyes slightly, pointed the boy in the right direction. The witch called the next student "Acheron, Lysistrata" and little girl with the deepest brown eyes Harry had ever seen nervously stepped forward.

A minute later…

"GRYFFINDOR."

Fortunately, this first-year had somewhat better luck than the last because Harry belatedly noticed that she was in his House. He immediately stood and waved her over, smiling with encouragement.

The Transfiguration teacher did not look pleased with her House. Narrowing her eyes with exasperation over her Lion's behavior and the fact that only one of her students was cheering, Minerva shot a look at the headmaster. The man gazed at her in return before standing. Instead of attempting to call attention over the ever-increasing din of noise, Dumbledore simply waved his wand, and the sound of a cannon firing echoed through the Hall.

Everyone instantly quieted, turning to the Head Table.

"Now," Dumbledore stated firmly, his eyes lit with a fierce spark, "I know that you all wish to discuss our delightful Hat's song. However, we have a Sorting in progress, so I suggest you stick to the topic at hand. There will be plenty of time later tonight to converse about other matters." The headmaster gazed at each House in turn before nodding to Professor McGonagall once more and returning to his seat.

Minerva smiled faintly and continued, "Andalusia, Seville"

Harry watched the Sorting with interest, all the while the Hat's song still repeating in his head. He occasionally cast a discreet glance at Luna, seeing that she also seemed troubled for much the same reasons as him. He couldn't believe that the Hat had actually sung about Salazar's… **his** murder! It was hardly a topic for children!

But then, the reborn Slytherin reasoned, perhaps it was time for the truth of his… departure from the school to come to light. For centuries, students and professors alike had thought that he had left the school under his own volition, ostensibly because of an argument over Muggleborn students with Godric.

Well, the argument had been about Muggleborns, one in particular. His wife. But his leaving was far from voluntary.

The young wizard suddenly shivered, not wanting to go down that road once again. Instead, he preferred lighter topics. Like the Sorting, which was actually near completion

"SLYTHERIN."

And "Zabini, Isabella" was on her way to her new House, her dark hair swishing behind her.

With a smile of triumph, Professor McGonagall rolled up her list and removed the Sorting Hat and stool. Dumbledore stood, making the normal start of term announcements, as well as mentioning once more that Voldemort had returned and that they were at war. He also made one final declaration before the feast began.

"As I am sure you have all noticed," Albus Dumbledore began, a twinkle returning to his eyes, "we are fortunate enough to have both Professors Firenze and Trelawney returning this year." The headmaster gestured to the two he had mentioned. "They have worked out a schedule so that they will be able to share classes." The man beamed jovially at the pronouncement. "Also," he added with uncontrollable enthusiasm, "Professor Umbridge sadly will be unable to return this year--"

A brief cheer resounded through out the Hall, blocking out the rest of his sentence. Regardless, he simply inclined his head and allowed it to continue for several moments.

Finally, Dumbledore quieted everyone with a flick of his wand. "However, we are fortunate enough to have a replacement available, so we didn't have to burden the Ministry for another replacement."

Some of the students smiled, but many did not. On the contrary, they were eyeing the only unknown face at the High Table. The man simply smiled down at them, tapping his fingers on the tabletop.

Dumbledore eyed the students for a moment before adding, "I am pleased to present Professor Dominic Boyd, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." He gestured to the teacher, and the man stood, bowing at the waist.

Another round of whispering broke out in the Great Hall, Harry hearing snippets of conversation.

From one side, Lavender commented, "Well, at least this one's good-looking." She and Parvati both gave him an appraising and rather long look.

"Yeah, and he has good dress sense," Parvati added, eyeing his midnight-blue robes with silver trimming. "Much better than that Umbridge woman."

From the other, Seamus asked, "What do you reckon?" He nudged Dean. "Another Death Eater, another werewolf, or another dandy?"

Dean eyed the Defense professor for a moment. "Nah. Probably not a Death Eater; I'd say that Dumbledore can finally ferret out one of those. Probably not a werewolf either with all those new Ministry decrees. He might be a dandy, though," the dark-skinned boy added, turning back to his friend. "What d'you think?"

"Hmm… I'd say a vampire. We haven't had one of those yet," the Irishman responded evenly, betrayed by his wicked smile.

"Could be," Dean allowed and gazed at the Defense teacher. "Or he could be one of those dark-haired Veela; he's certainly good-looking enough to be," he commented, noticing all the girls gaping at the man with enthusiasm. But suddenly, he looked stumped. "What are they called again?"

As the whispering continued to ripple through the Great Hall, steadily rising in volume, Dumbledore finally added, "Oh, do not worry. Our fine new Defense Professor comes Sorting Hat approved, and we all know how thorough it is in detecting a person's… character and leanings."

This seemed to appease most of the students as they quickly recalled their own experience with the Hat.

With a smile, the headmaster inclined his head again. "Well, then. I just have a few words to say." He paused, taking on a very serious expression. "Remember that in these times of uncertainty and unrest, Hogwarts' doors will be open to all those who seek sanctuary," he finished solemnly. He waved his hands, and the food magically appeared.

The feast passed quickly, many of the students distrustfully eyeing the newest professor, not that Harry could blame them with their previous teachers in the Defense position. However, he did notice that most of the female population, and a fair number of the boys, were admiring the vampire. Hermione was thankfully not one of this time. In fact, the bushy-haired Prefect was too deeply involved in her conversation with Ginny and Athena to really notice Dominic at all.

Soon enough though, the feast was over, and Athena was leading the new Gryffindors up to the Tower, the older students following in their wake. The reborn Slytherin went along with them and entered the sixth-year boys' dormitory with the rest of his year-mates. He made some motions of preparing for bed, but most of them were just for show. His real attention was focused on his upcoming meeting with Dom, but to get there, he needed to be unnoticed. A few prudent and silent castings of various Sleep spells later, and his already tired roommates were all in a deep slumber. One which would end in approximately eight hours, barring some kind of catastrophe.

With a slight smirk, Harry donned his Invisibility Cloak, spelled his shoes to be silent and his breathing to be all but unnoticeable, and stealthily left the tower. Once in the corridor outside of the Fat Lady's portrait, he gently and politely called upon Hogwarts, allowing her to lead him swiftly to his meeting place.

* * *

AN: This chapter is a bit longer than what I normally write, but I didn't want to gloss over certain parts to make it shorter. I felt that it needed a bit more depth, but at the same time, I wanted to go ahead and get the Sorting over with.

**Further, it is slowly becoming tradition for me to mention the things I would like you to keep in mind, so here it is**: Bella's pregnancy ties in with why she could see Harry. Like the castle and the Hat, the Phoenix Gate is ensouled, and its origins remain unknown. Additionally, the Gate has been "lost" since the mid to late 1700s, and its last recorded sighting was not in Great Britain but in America. The Blacks have only been hereditary Slytherins for around six to seven generations. Before that, they all attended Beauxbatons.

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby_ for the beta.

_Chapter Nineteen: __The Other Chamber of Secrets_

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Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**06/09/08**


	20. The Other Chamber of Secrets

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

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**Chapter Nineteen: The Other Chamber of Secrets**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, The Great Hall: September 2nd, 1996_**

"Gryffindor a murderer!"

"And Slytherin no less!"

"D'you think the Hat was lying?"

"But why would it?"

These were just a few of the conversations Harry heard as he sat down to breakfast the morning after the fateful Sorting. His late meeting the night before had been quite productive, though a tad awkward at first. Dom had still been nervous about his role in Salazar's death, even though the teenager had reassured him in their earlier correspondence. But they had quickly talked over their remaining issues and were soon down to business.

They both knew that for the ultimate survival of the wizarding world and the Muggle world Voldemort had to go. Yet, the Dark Lord was not only exceptionally powerful, he also had many followers. However, all it would take to defeat him would be a united magical world, or even a united wizarding Britain. Both things that they would never actually get as things currently were. The others were simply too afraid of Tom to ever act against him. But there was still hope in the form of the Order of the Phoenix. But here, too, there were still problems.

First, the Order was small in comparison to the Death Eaters, who outnumbered them by at least five to one, and the actual margin was probably much higher. Second, the Death Eaters did not have to be concerned with protecting large numbers of people, Muggles and wizards alike. They operated on a purely offensive basis. They would attack and retreat as their wont, while the Order and occasionally the ineffective Ministry scrambled to defend.

The Order simply wasn't enough. They needed to unite the magical populace, and that was all they really needed to do. Everything they planned stemmed from this goal. All they had to do was get magical Britain to unite; that was all. A united magical population was powerful enough and large enough to successfully take on the Death Eaters.

But two Founders, a vampire, a castle, a hat, a phoenix, and their friends were just not enough to accomplish this. What they needed first was help. They needed powerful allies with magical knowledge and wisdom. With allies like that, their task to unite the magical world would be so much simpler, primarily because they could directly attack and defeat the Death Eaters. Showing the other wizards that such was possible would lead them to unify against the Dark Lord. Further, politically powerful friends, those with clout in the Ministry, could work to the benefit of other magical creatures, giving them the rights they deserved and encouraging them to stand against Lord Voldemort as well.

While Hermione and the others were working on their problem of gathering allies, they were making far too little progress in far too much time. They needed allies, and they needed them now! And Harry and Dom had a very simple way to accomplish this; they were going to bring back the other Founders.

So the previous evening, Harry and Dom had worked out how they were going to do exactly that. It was a relatively simple plan actually. They would just lead the others to the Sorting Hat's room and show them the Gate. It would be easy enough for those who were currently still in the castle, like Quinn, Rowena, their children, and Amia. As for Helga and Edmund, it would be a bit more difficult. But Dom knew exactly how to get them in the castle; he was simply going to ask for a parent-teacher conference. And, as for Tristan… well, here there was another problem. They weren't sure about him yet; they didn't know how he would react to the entire situation. It was simply too early, so they would have to wait and hopefully bring him in later.

While plans for the other Founders were all well and good, they were not the be all and end all of their discussion. Harry had further filled the vampire in about the dream he had had the previous night, detailing Voldemort's plan to attack Hogwarts as a distraction so that he could study the Veil in the Department of Ministries. Unfortunately for Harry and Dom, they did not know how the attack was to take place. For all they knew, the Dark Lord was going to send a legion of Dementors and Death Eaters. Or he could be planning something much worse, if that were even possible. The professor and Founder had theorized for several hours about the situation, but in the end, they hadn't come up with anything decisive. They had only decided that they needed to find out more, which meant they needed someone on the inside, leading to their next point. Bellatrix.

The pregnant Death Eater had played a prominent part in Harry's thoughts the weeks and months after Sirius' death. And while he had decided that she had not intentionally killed his godfather, Harry still wasn't sure what to think about her, especially not after her whispered plea. All he did know was that she needed help, and as Sirius' heir and the heir of the House of Black, Bellatrix was family. Merlin's staff, he would be her family Head come his next birthday. Harry would be damned before he left her to rot

Of course, this had led to yet another problem. What exactly was Harry supposed to do? What did Bellatrix **want** him to do? Did she want out of the Death Eaters, or did she want him to help her with the baby in some way?

Harry had no idea, so he was going to have to find out. Which meant he had to contact her some way. But no worries there at least. Fawkes had agreed to help deliver messages to her.

Their talk had ended soon afterwards, and they had gone their respective ways. Still, while ultimately productive, their discussion had lasted so long that the sky was beginning to lighten by the time that Harry finally managed to sleep. It was only thanks to the power of the Gate that he had managed to get more than just an hour of sleep. He had enclosed his curtains around his bed and used the Gate to slow time in the area. However, he hadn't wanted to chance his dorm-mates discovering him, so he hadn't used the temporal dilation for too long. Well, too long in relation to the outside world at any rate.

All in all, he still didn't get a full night's sleep, which is probably why he wasn't at his thinking best the following morning. And why it took him a while to register that Hermione had been attempting to talk to him for the last few minutes.

"Harry!" she all but yelled at him, waving her hand in front of his face.

His head snapped up from its original position of leaning on his fist. "What? Oh… yes, Hermione."

A suspicious pair of brown eyes stared at him. "I've been trying to get your attention for five minutes. Are you alright, Harry?"

"I'm just tired. I didn't get much sleep last night," he evaded deftly. "Just couldn't seem to fall asleep, you know. Must have been nerves."

Hermione gazed at him but seemed to accept his answer since she moved onto another topic. "So, Harry… you and Luna? Are you two dating?" she questioned with a twitch of her eyebrow.

Harry smirked. "Technically, I would have to answer with a no since we have yet to go on a date, but she is my girlfriend." He continued before his friend could voice the question he knew she wanted desperately to ask, "She makes me happy, Hermione. She makes me smile, and she makes me laugh. After Sirius," he faltered for a second but quickly went on, "after his death, I didn't think I would ever do either again. But I am. And it's because of her. She gets me, Hermione. She understands me, and she likes me. Me, **Harry**, not the Boy-Who-Lived." He looked directly at her. "She doesn't care that I'm famous or that I'm rich. All she cares about is me."

The bushy-haired witch was stunned by his response. "Okay," she finally said. "As long as you're happy." She gently reached over and patted his hand. "You know, Harry, I think that I understand," she put in with a smile, "because that's exactly how Bill is with me. He doesn't mind that I'm Muggleborn or that I'm bookish. He actually likes that I am practically married to the library because he is much the same way. He--"

"--just gets you," Harry answered for her knowingly.

The Prefect nodded. "Yes, he gets me." She her cheeks lit up with a faint blush.

The conversation drifted after that. Harry began to gaze around the Great Hall, taking in the other students' reactions to the previous night. There was still a great deal of worried whispering going on, as well as many questioning looks directed at the Head Table. The young wizard noted that many of the Slytherins were glancing at the Gryffindors nervously, as though they feared that the Lions would do the same to them as Godric did to Salazar.

He further noticed that Draco Malfoy in particular seemed to be looking at their table a good deal, mostly glancing at Hermione and him actually. This wasn't unusual in itself with Malfoy. They often watched each other; it had to do with their status as rivals. Nevertheless, Harry couldn't figure out why the Slytherin Prefect was all but staring at Hermione. Well, the reborn Salazar could actually think of one reason why, but if Draco could already feel the connection, then there was hope for them all yet. Shaking his head, Harry turned to his female friend, only to notice her returning Draco's stares.

That was unexpected.

Harry smiled. Perhaps there was hope.

Gently reaching forward with his Empathy, he sampled the blond's emotions, sensing that the Slytherin was a mixture of excitement and hope. With a dash of nervousness added in for good measure. Resolutely, green eyes turned towards his bushy-haired companion, Harry deciding to test her feelings as well.

However, rather unfortunately, it was at that very moment that Ginny chose to ask Hermione about her thoughts on the Sorting song. And the spell was broken as Hermione glanced at the redhead. The bushy-haired witch quickly mentioned her thoughts on the Hat's song. Which were that she believed it but that she felt they should probably look into Salazar Slytherin's departure from the school. She was soon making plans to journey to the library. Basically, it seemed that even though it was the first day, they already had another mystery on hand. One which Harry already knew the answer to and that Hermione would soon know as well. If everything went as planned, that is.

Yet, before the excited Prefect could hop up from the table and head to the library right then and there, Minerva walked by and passed out the schedules. She handed Harry's to him with a gentle smile and the subtle squeeze of her hand on his shoulder, receiving a discreet wink in return.

As the professor moved further down the table, Harry glanced at his class list, noting that he first had NEWT Charms, as opposed to the easier OWL version. That was followed by NEWT classes in Herbology and then Defense with Care of Magical Creatures rounding out the day. Originally, he had been skeptical about continuing both Herbology and Hagrid's class, but his returned memories had led him to reconsider. Both would now be easy options for him, providing him with relatively simple classes that would supply useful information. Herbology would help him with Potions, allowing him to fill in the gaps in his knowledge due to new innovations, while Care of Magical Creatures would do the same for animals instead. The teenager was a bit leery of the extra time with Hagrid, but the information would be useful. Truthfully, he also didn't want to alienate the half-giant by not taking the man's class.

Scanning his schedule once more, the dark-haired wizard noted that he actually had NEWT Potions, the only advanced Potions Snape taught, first thing tomorrow morning. That was not surprising when he considering the Outstanding he had made on his Potions OWL. Afterwards, he had NEWT Transfiguration with Hermione. Harry had chosen to drop Divination, History of Magic, and Astronomy for various reasons, most of which centered on the fact that his knowledge in those areas far exceeded anything that would be covered during lessons.

Divination, as currently taught, had regressed during the last millennium. The things they had covered in the last three years had been considered nothing but the bare basics during the time of the Founders. It seemed as though Trelawney hadn't been lying when she mentioned that much about Divination had been lost during the anti-Seer stints of the last few centuries. On the other hand, new things had been added to History of Magic. But with the way Binns taught it, Harry was better off simply asking Dominic to fill him in. Truthfully, the vampire was quite the history student, as fond of it as Arthur Weasley was for Muggle gadgets, not to mention the fact that he had actually lived it. As for Astronomy, it shared a similar fate with Divination, and it seemed as though wizards had actually regressed in this area. All in all, Harry had simply chosen to continue in fields that there had been actual innovations in the last thousand years.

As he looked at his schedule, the young man briefly regretted not taking Arithmancy or Ancient Runes, but then, he remembered both from his time as Salazar. In fact, he was quite fluent in Ancient Runes, or Runes as it had been known then, and had taught it before his death. Almost all of the runic work of Hogwarts had not been done by Rowena as most people thought but by him with help from Siobhan and Quinn. Rowena had only done the runic research for the Phoenix Gate because his schedule had been too full at the time for him to do it instead, not to mention the fact that the redhead was a much better researcher. As for Arithmancy, the reborn Slytherin figured that he could always do independent study. Or better yet, he could ask Fawkes and Hogwarts for help. If anyone would know, it would most certainly be them.

Casting one final glance at his class schedule, Harry tucked it into his school bag, which was currently filled with the miniaturized form of all his school books. He quickly finished his bangers and eggs, patently ignoring the knowing look Hermione gave him when Luna sauntered over after he was done. Several Gryffindors, Ron included, gave the blonde bizarre glances, but she simply smiled at them as Harry rose to his feet. He bid Hermione goodbye, saying that he would meet her in class. And the two of them were off, heading to his girlfriend's first lesson, Transfiguration. Harry walked her right up to the classroom door.

As they were the only ones there, not even Minerva had shown up yet, he gave her several lingering kisses. By the time they were finished, his arms were looped firmly around her waist, her hair was slightly disheveled, both of their lips were swollen, and there were at least seven other people queuing up for class. The professor thankfully wasn't one of them, though the mixed Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw group was unsuccessfully attempting to secretly stare at them. Harry knew that after this little love fest and the sort of incident at Gryffindor table that rumors would be flying around the school. Yet, he just couldn't really bring himself to care.

After another quick and rather chaste kiss, Harry hurried to Charms, nipping in just before Parvati and sitting next to Neville as Ron was with Hermione. The class passed quickly, Professor Flitwick mentioning that they had all chosen the NEWT class. Which was not only harder and more in-depth but would be tested by the NEWTs at the end of seventh year. They mostly reviewed, but the Charms master did teach them two useful healing spells five minutes before class ended with instructions for them to practice. Herbology was right after and passed swiftly as well, Sprout giving much the same speech.

And soon enough, it was lunch. Harry sat at the Ravenclaw table with Luna, steadfastly ignoring all the whispers before heading of to Defense. The teenager was forced to hurry to the lesson, so he wouldn't be late. An impromptu snogging session with Luna in a cubby hole on the first floor had put him slightly behind schedule. He quickly nipped in, finding another empty seat next to Neville and toward the middle of the class. He quickly noted that all of the sixth year students from the DA were in there along with a good number of the Slytherins. In fact, as he glanced around, Harry noted that with the exception of the Slytherins and a random pair of Ravenclaws, only DA students were currently in the class.

Parvati and Lavender were in the very front row, something unusual for them in any lesson except Divination. But as soon as Harry noticed that their not-so-quiet conversation was about the professor's dashing good looks, he understood completely. Hermione was in the second row, sitting next to Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones. As well as two Slytherin girls Harry couldn't place and Lisa Turpin from Ravenclaw. The DA members were talking to the other witches rather earnestly, while the Serpents looked at Hermione and Lisa Turpin goggled at them. The reborn Salazar assumed that Hermione was most likely trying to recruit them, and he wondered what exactly she was telling them or how she had even gotten the Slytherins to sit near her.

Over to the left along the wall, Justin, Ernie, Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner, and Stephen Cornfoot were looking at something in a book, while pointedly ignoring Zacharias Smith. Along the other wall, Malfoy was chatting with his groups of friends and followers. Nott, Gavin Darklighter the other non-DA Ravenclaw, another boy Harry believed was named Blaise Zabini, Parkinson, and Bulstrode. They were also surreptitiously studying the rest of the class, carefully estimating and evaluating everyone. Harry was just relieved to see that neither Crabbe nor Goyle were there.

As he observed them, he noticed Draco watching Hermione once again. However, this time the blond boy's eyes shifted and locked with Harry's for an instant, the Prefect staring back at him with an unreadable expression on his face. Harry simply nodded discreetly before looking on, knowing that Draco was still watching both he and Hermione but not showing that he knew.

In the back, Ron was seated with Seamus and Dean, but he was ignoring their conversation about what type of creature Professor Boyd was. The redhead simply gazed at the far wall. The other two, on the other hand, were whispering quietly to each other but unexpectedly the dark-skinned boy stood up in his seat and loudly proclaimed that Boyd must assuredly be a male Veela.

The classroom door suddenly opened, and the man in question came sweeping in. Dean paused, his eyes bulging as the teacher glanced at him, before he sank into his seat. The entire class save Harry, who was trying not to laugh at the entire situation, inhaled sharply and stared at him as the man walked forward to his desk. The professor casually sat himself on the edge, facing the class. A faint smile appeared on his face.

Dominic briefly locked eyes with Harry, a motion so fast as to be missed by everyone else. "_Hello, Harry_," he sent. "_And how are you today_?"

Emerald eyes responded, "_I'm great. I'm looking forward to the show_!" he cheekily sent back, fighting the urge to laugh.

Dom's smile widened. "_And what a show it will be_," he finished before turning his attention to the rest of the students.

"Salutations, class. I am Professor Boyd, and I am your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I am rather nervous to be here as this is my first job as a teacher, but I believe that I have much to contribute and that we will have an excellent year," he started with an amused grin.

The class still remained silent after his little speech, astonished expressions on their faces. Harry had to use the full force of his Occlumency shields to keep from laughing out loud. The man simply continued to smile at them. Finally, after several moments, someone else showed signs of life.

"Are you a Death Eater?" Seamus asked point blank. He wasn't beating around the bush.

The professor looked at him with casual interest. "No, Mister?"

"Finnegan."

The teacher inclined his head. "No, Mr. Finnegan, I am not a Death Eater."

"Are you a werewolf, then?" Dean questioned taking up the interrogation.

Boyd raised his eyebrows. "Mister?"

"Thomas."

"Ah, Mr. Thomas, no, I am not a werewolf." The man's eyes scanned the class, and he shifted on the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. With serious expression on his face, he spoke again. "No, I am not a werewolf nor a Death Eater, Banshee, Dementor, demon, zombie, Basilisk-in-Human-Clothing, Soul Reaper, Veela, etc." He stared at them, forcing them to look into swirling, silvery irises. "I am not, nor have ever been, a supporter of the Dark Lord Voldemort." He paused as the students flinched.

Harry noticed that the Slytherins actually looked relieved by this statement.

"And I am not here to harm any of you. I am here to help… to teach you Defense." He looked at them once more and uncrossed his arms. "Now, shall we begin?" he asked, sliding off his desk.

The class nodded, mostly seeming to accept his answer.

Seamus, however, was not finished yet. "What about vampire, then? You didn't mention that one."

Professor Boyd actually chuckled and grinned once more. "Mr. Finnegan, do I look like a vampire to you? Do you think the headmaster would allow a person in the castle if he thought them a danger to the school or the students in it?" he shot back with amusement.

Seamus actually looked abashed. "Um… probably not." At Professor Boyd's raised eyebrow, he tried again, "Er… no, the headmaster wouldn't." He shrugged sheepishly and sank in his seat. "Sorry, sir."

"That is quite alright, Mr. Finnegan," Professor Boyd answered as he opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a stack of papers. "I understand that your past few Defense teachers have been less than adequate with the exception of Professor Lupin, of course," he added smoothly. "I also know that even including him, the teachers have been quite different and possibly dangerous. However, I shall strive to be a good professor, and I hope that we can overcome any difficulties that might arise," he finished, coming around his desk once more. He smiled wider and stepped closer to them. "Now, class, I only have one thing for you to do today. And afterwards, you are free to go."

Everyone save Harry shifted with anticipation.

"I want to know about your Defense education, so I have a little list of spells I want you to look through. This is not for a grade, but please be as thorough as you can," Professor Boyd stated in an even tone. He paused in his speech to pass out a list of fifty spells.

When he was finished, he turned back to the class. "I want you to look through this list and decide which ones are considered to be Dark Arts by the Ministry. I also want you to give me your opinion of each," he informed them, a strange gleam in his eyes. "Tell me your personal opinion of each. **Your opinion**," he said with emphasis. "Yours, not that of the Ministry. Tell me if you feel they are Light, Dark, or something in between. Also, I want you to write a short paragraph in the space at the end. I ask for nothing more than a few lines," he continued, noticing Seamus' unhappy expression. "Just describe what the Dark Arts mean to you. You have the rest of the period. If you have any questions, simply raise your hand." The professor glanced around before nodding. "Begin."

Harry glanced down at the first item.

_1) _Tripudio Obstrepo_ hex__: Forces the recipient to tap dance until the spell is lifted.  
2) _Caligo_ charm__: Makes the recipient dizzy.  
3) _Aestuo Sangre _jinx__: Causes the blood of the victim to boil._

The list continued.

_50) _Caput Abrumpo_ curse__: Decapitates the victim._

Harry finished the final item and skipped down to the empty space at the bottom of the parchment. He smiled slowly and chewed on his quill for a minute before penning his opinion on the Dark Arts. He wrote only two sentences.

_Dark does not mean evil. Intent is everything._

Harry quickly packed up his supplies and headed to the front of the room where the professor was waiting. He handed his paper to the man, receiving a twitch of the lips and a subtle wink. Belatedly, the young man noticed that he was the first one finished. Not even Dean, who was usually first in turning things in because he never looked over his work, was done yet. In fact, he only seemed to be about half-way finished. The only ones who were close were Draco, Hermione, and Millicent. All three of them were concentrating so hard on the list that they seemed oblivious to anything else.

Shrugging and winking back at the Defense professor, Harry turned and left. Although it was not nearly time for Care of Magical Creatures, he decided to head on down to Hagrid's hut anyway, hoping to be able to visit with the man for a while. But when he got there he was surprised or maybe not that Hagrid decided to start his lesson right away. Apparently, Harry was the only student to take the NEWT class. Actually, there were only three students in total who had continued after fifth year. He and a pair of Hufflepuffs. The other two wanted to work in for the Ministry and had continued on OWL level.

The lesson was simple enough and by Hagrid's standards quite boring. There were no horrible, read interesting, creatures to study or fight. Truthfully, all Harry and Hagrid did was talk about Aragog, who was apparently very sick and not expected to live much longer.

After finally managing to pry himself away from the half-giant, the young man made his way to dinner. This time Luna joined him at the Gryffindor table, squeezing herself in next to Ginny. She received even more odd glances, and at one point, Lavender even asked her directly if rumors were true.

Luna glanced at the older girl, knowing that all of Gryffindor and most of the school, the faculty included, was listening in to their conversation. "Of course, I'm not dating Harry," she answered truthfully enough, casting a sly glance at him as Lavender looked at her with confusion.

The entire school, the female population and a few boys, seemed to heave a sigh of relief. Yet, their respite was short lived as Luna spoke again.

"We haven't gone anywhere yet," she continued on blithely, noticing the smirk on Harry's face, "but after next Hogsmeade weekend we will be. Dating, that is."

And her statement was met by almost complete and total silence. The Great Hall, however, burst into a din of whispers. Hermione actually snorted into her mashed potatoes at Lavender's shocked expression, while Ginny and Neville both grinned wickedly. Athena smirked. Dean laughed. Ron stared, and Seamus choked on his drink, causing Parvati to slap him forcefully on the back. On the other side of the hall, Malfoy smiled suddenly, causing Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini to look at him with interest. Up at the Head Table, Snape blinked. Minerva and Dom looked pleased. Flitwick giggled, and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. Trelawney, who was there once more, gave them a knowing look. And Poppy Pomfrey heaved a girly sigh and stared at them dreamily.

Harry merely smiled and laced his fingers through Luna's.

"I am his girlfriend, though," the blonde commented, tilting her head to look at the older girl. "If that is what you are asking," she finished, toying with her wand, which was currently being used to hold her gold-silver hair in a bun.

"Oh" was the articulate reply.

They were not bothered again for the rest of the day.

* * *

**_Hogwarts, Sixth Year Gryffindor Boys' Dorm: The Same Day_**__

Harry sat on his bed later that night with his curtains drawn, conversing mentally with the castle. He was currently in a very comfortable robe of deep bluish-black, one which Luna claimed brought out his eyes and which was spelled to fight almost all dirt and grim. With his plans for tonight he would need a robe like this, especially considering the fact that Luna and he were planning to visit the Chamber of Secrets under Myrtle's bathroom. Well, the fake Chamber of Secrets really.

Though he was still sketchy on the details of its creation, Harry knew without a doubt that it was not **his** Chamber of Secrets. For one thing, it was in entirely the wrong part of the castle. For another, he didn't remember ever creating it.

All he knew was that it had been created in the 1700s by one of his descendants, Iago Gaunt, the then-Headmaster of Hogwarts. The man had been infuriated when he had been unable to find, much less enter, the real Chamber. He, too, had believed the lie that Salazar was opposed to Muggles and Muggleborns. Gaunt had actually thought both groups to be sub-human, and as such, he had believed that it was his duty to rid of the school of them. It was ironic really that it had been this very belief that had denied him entrance. The Chamber was created as a learning place and a defensive measure for the castle. As such, those who desired to harm its inhabitants or use its magics for ill could not enter.

Regardless though, the man had been enraged when he couldn't enter the Chamber, so he had eventually created one of his own, proclaiming to his children that it was the original. Gaunt had further used _Imperius_ on the Basilisk guardian of the school, Oro, and had placed her there as well, making his children believe even more. Harry was not entirely sure how Gaunt had managed to find her, but he suspected that the man had used his position as headmaster to summon her forth from the original Chamber. Just as he used his position of headmaster to ensure Hogwarts prolonged silence on the matter.

"_Please forgive me, Salazar, but you very well know the geas placed upon me_," the castle explained to Harry with misery in her voice. "_If the Headmaster decrees that I cannot reveal something, only a Founder, a unanimous vote of all the Heads of House, or his successor can overrule him_," Hogwarts whispered sadly. "_None of the Heads knew, and by the nature of the spell, I couldn't tell them unless they were already aware. I couldn't even tell Fawkes or the Sorting Hat or even the subsequent headmistress_."

"_But there was a loophole in the geas if I remember correctly_," Harry put in, trying to comfort her with a mental hug.

Hogwarts gave the castle equivalent of a nod. "_Yes, I am allowed to tell the Founders anything. Regardless of who originally forbid it, but with the loophole, I can only tell them if they are aware they are the Founders. Thatis why I couldn't say anything until you remembered the past_."

Harry nodded as he slid off his bed. "_Yes, well, it is all gold in Gringotts now. There's nothing we can do to change it. Well, actually there is, but that is neither here nor there, and we'd probably end up making this worse_," he commented as he stretched out his senses, ensuring that his dorm-mates were asleep. Smiling to himself, Harry drew his Invisibility Cloak around his body and spelled his various parts silent.

"_Now, if you pardon me, my dear. I have a date with a beautiful young lady_."

In his mind, Harry heard Hogwarts chuckle.

Several moments later, he was standing inside of Myrtle's bathroom next to the sink that was the Chamber's entrance, his girlfriend directly behind him. Thankfully, Hogwarts had sent the ghost on to another part of the castle, so he had no worries of her knowing what Luna and he were about to do. According to the castle, the Chamber was hidden under a Parsel Magic modified _Fidelius_ charm. So only those with the gift, possessed by those with the gift as Ginny was in her first year, or who had been taught the language could find or enter it. Unless, of course, they had been told its location. But even then, they still couldn't enter. This basically meant that unless Dumbledore had managed to find another Parselmouth he had not entered after Harry had told him its location several years earlier. Hogwarts confirmed this fact, stating that the headmaster had not even sealed the entrance after she had explained that she wouldn't allow anyone but an approved member of the faculty to use it. Well, technically since Harry was a Founder and Luna had taught until her death, they were faculty members. And Hogwarts approved them, so they could enter.

Smirking at the irony of it all, Harry whispered to the tap, _**"Open."**_

The entrance magically appeared, the blonde coming around to peek inside.

"Nice," she stated with a sarcastic undertone, shaking her head and causing her purple, dangling snitch earrings to jingle. "And I bet the Chamber will have such homey touches as well," she continued, indicating the lovely slime on the slide that led into the darkness.

Harry chuckled. "Oh, yes. It definitely has that special feminine touch to it. The rat skeletons make it feel so welcoming."

Her lips twitched, and she clutched her bright-blue robe fiercely, clearly fighting the urge to laugh. "Well, shall we?" she asked after a moment.

"Sure, but I'll go first since I've been here before."

She cast him an appraising look at that statement. "Really, is that the reason?" she queried, raising an eyebrow. "Or do you just not want to send me in the danger unless you get to go there first?"

He chuckled once more and bowed. "Oh, you know me far too well, my lady." And with that he stepped forward into the abyss and flicked his wand.

'_Penna Accidi,_' he mentally called, drifting downward at an easy pace. A few seconds later and a few meters above him, he heard Luna cast the same charm.

The two drifted down for a few minutes before landing lightly at the bottom. They quickly cast _Solaris_, the more powerful version of _Lumos_, and made their way down the exit tunnel. The bright tips of their wands lit up the tunnel several dozen meters in front of them, showing the various rodent skeletons and the rubble from Lockhart's failed _Obliviate_. The couple cleared the debris as they went and widened the hole in the wall, the one Harry had climbed through to reach the rest of the Chamber several years earlier, so that they could walk through at the same time.

The reborn Salazar whispered once more. The final door opened. And then, they were there, the Chamber. Nonetheless, they could barely see a damned thing since it was so dark, even factoring in their wand-light.

Harry didn't panic, however. He simply rolled his eyes and lifted his wand.

'_Lumos Solarium_,' he thought.

Multiple balls of pure, white light shot out of the end. One traveled to every corner, hovering midair and completely lighting each. Several went upwards, floating well above head-level but still providing more than enough light to see the floor with clear detail. Others went to various parts of the room, by the walls or just hovering in the air at regular intervals.

Casting her eyes around, Luna smiled. "Very nice," she commented.

And it was. The room was completely visible now, not a darkened spot in sight.

Harry, however, seemed to have not heard her because he was far too focused on stretching out his Empathy. While it was a little known fact, emotions had the ability to linger in a place, to be absorbed in the very walls and floors. This was why particular buildings gave off certain vibes, as it were. Much like why Grimmauld Place still seemed so dour even after they had repainted the rooms and brightened it up.

As a latent Empath, Harry could tap into the lingering emotions, getting the feel of place. But all he got from the false chamber was revulsion and repulsion. The place was positively seeping with hatred, malice, and a whole slew of other negative things. The only bright spots in the emotional history of the room actually came from Harry himself and had occurred after he had slayed the Basilisk and had saved Ginny Weasley.

Thinking of the Basilisk, green eyes resolutely turned to the crumbled form of the snake, which was lying in the forward half of the Chamber. The reborn Salazar shook his head sadly as he stared at the still intact corpse of the serpent, the same one he had slain in second year.

"Poor Oro," he whispered as he approached the body. "I'm sorry, my dear friend," he continued, stroking his fingers across her head. "I am so very sorry." A hand on his waist caused him to turn his head and glance over his shoulder.

"There was nothing you could do, love," Luna stated firmly as she wrapped her arms around his middle. "As you explained it to me, the Gaunts had her under _Imperius_. And with Tom controlling her, there was nothing you could do. She had been under their power too long. She was in too deep, Sal," the blonde slipped in his other name, but Harry was not sure if it was intentional.

He nodded briskly, not saying anything, but he did lay his hands over Luna's. After several moments of seeking comfort in her embrace, he moved further into the room. Directly in front of him stood the statue that he assumed was Iago Gaunt, the Headmaster of Hogwarts from 1753 to 1761 and the creator of this Chamber, the false Chamber of Secrets.

Harry stared up at the statue, fighting the urge to shudder. 'And to imagine that I had actually believed that he was Salazar Slytherin,' he thought to himself, referring to his incident in this Chamber during second year. 'That statue is bloody awful. I hope that it is artistic license and not what he actually looked like,' the dark-haired wizard continued, noting the marble man's monkey-like face and very droopy eyes. 'Though if it is artistic license, chances are he looked even worse. If that is even possible.'

The young man actually shivered then before continuing to look around. He noticed that Luna was over by the door she had spotted earlier, intently studying the markings around the frame. Shrugging his shoulders and casting one final glance about the main room, he strode over to her, also peering at the runes.

"They are Parsel writing," the witch commented, squinting her eyes as she tried to read it. However, she gave up after a few seconds and turned towards Harry. "I am a bit rusty," she acknowledged with a slight sigh. "I didn't really have the heart to keep up with it after… well, you know…" she trailed off.

Harry gave an understanding tilt of his head, trying to reassure her. "After I… Salazar died," he stated knowingly.

The blonde nodded. "Yes, I just couldn't do it, even though Tristan could speak it as well. But he knew it bothered me, so he would never use it in my presence."

"He could speak, too?" Harry asked eagerly, but there was a hint of sadness in his question as he was unpleasantly reminded of how much of his son's life he had missed.

"Yes, but he didn't really like to," Luna murmured softly, glancing at him. "I think that it reminded him of you and of how he didn't even have the chance to know you." She shook her head. "It hurt him," she said simply.

The reborn Salazar exhaled and remained silent for several moments. Finally, deciding to move on to a less painful topic, he turned to the runes once more.

"Don't worry, you're not missing much," he inserted with a hint of forced cheer, noticing the lack of sparkle in her eyes. "It is only a spell to keep the Basilisk out. Apparently, there are private quarters behind here, and they didn't want her disturbing them while they were there," he informed her, glancing over the script again.

Her lips twitched slightly. "Sounds as though they were afraid of Oro then," she concluded, her eye-sparkle returning slowly.

"Probably," Harry allowed. "Most likely they feared that the _Imperius_ would fail and that she would try to attack them in their sleep."

Luna breathed out slowly. "So shall we go on?" she finally questioned, indicating the door.

He blinked. "What… oh, yes! There might be some useful things down here. Perhaps books or artifacts that we can use."

He slowly reached forward and touched the door, causing it to swing open. He put his wand forward, lighting up the passage. With his free hand, he grasped Luna's palm.

"Let's go, love," Harry said, leading her into the tunnel.

* * *

_Tripudio Obstrepo_: Tap-dancing. Verbal and non-verbal. Forces the recipient to tap dance until the spell is lifted.

_Caligo_: Dizziness. Verbal and non-verbal. Makes the recipient dizzy.

_Aestuo Sangre_: Blood Boil. Verbal and non-verbal. Causes the blood of the victim to boil.

_Caput Abrumpo_: Decapitation. Verbal and non-verbal. Decapitates the victim.

_Penna Accidi_: Feather Fall. Verbal and non-verbal. Allows the caster to lightly fall and land from great heights without taking injury. I pseudo-borrowed this spell from Dragonlance.

_Lumos Solarium_: Area of Light. Verbal and non-verbal. Completely lights up a room or an area by means of multiple balls of white light.

_Solaris_: Light. Verbal and non-verbal. Advanced version of _Lumos_. The brightening effect is similar to direct sunlight at noon. Like _Lumos_ it can light a general area or can be directed in beam form of various widths.

**Interesting things to consider**: There is some kind of connection between Hermione and Draco. Also, there will be unusual pairings for Neville, Draco, and Ginny. The Basilisk's name, Oro, is short for Ouroboros. It should really be Ouro, but I didn't like the spelling for that one. Dom's quiz will play a role in later chapters. Finally, the creator of the second Chamber of Secrets isn't really an important character. I just needed an explanation for the whole thing.

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby_ for the beta and to Our Catholic Faith (online) for the Latin translation.

_Chapter Twenty: Defence of the Dark Arts_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**06/10/08**


	21. Defense of the Dark Arts

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**"**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Twenty: Defense of the Dark Arts**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Potions Classroom: September 3rd, 1996_**

The journey to the false Chamber of Secrets the previous evening had actually been quite useful. Luna and Harry had discovered an entire library filled with books they had never seen before, many of them covering advancements in magic that the rest of the wizarding world seemed to have ignored. However, it had not all been sunshine and daisies, much to the young couple's chagrin. On their way back to Ravenclaw Tower, it had only been by the grace of whoever invented Invisibility spells, as well as Hogwarts herself, that the two had not been caught out by Filch. Seeing the Squib patrolling the hallways was not an unusual sight, but three in the morning was pushing it a bit in Harry's book. Perhaps he really did suffer from insomnia as Luna had suggested.

Regardless, the two managed to make it back to their respective dorms and to their beds, using the Gate to catch a few extra hours of sleep. In Harry's case, he felt he needed it. He had Potions first thing.

He was currently sitting down in the class in question, taking the seat Hermione had saved him. Green eyes glanced around the room to note that it contained students from all four houses, though it seemed that Slytherin was by far the majority. In fact, all of the sixth-year Slytherins, minus Goyle, were there. Unfortunately, there were only two Hufflepuffs, Ernie and a student Harry didn't know, and around half of the Ravenclaw group. Of course, there were also the three Gryffindors: Hermione, Harry, and Neville.

The fact that Neville was in NEWT Potions seemed to be the cause of much of the whispering between the other students. Even Hermione, who normally never gossiped, was leaning over to quietly ask Jacqueline Jordan, a Ravenclaw girl, what she thought about the situation. A moment later, the bushy-haired witch turned back around and was about to ask Harry the same question, but he halted the action with a knowing smirk. After all, he already knew or could hazard a guess as to how Neville had pulled off the Outstanding needed to be in the class. Yet, Harry wasn't telling; it really wasn't his place to say anything. So instead, he merely grinned and nodded a greeting to the boy, who was sitting across the row with Millicent Bulstrode.

It was at that very moment that Professor Snape chose to make his presence known. He banged open the classroom door and strode in, black robes billowing behind him as usual. The reborn Salazar actually had to fight the urge to laugh as the action was so very much like a previous Potions master of Hogwarts.

The professor stalked up to his desk before whipping around to face his students. Snape's dark eyes swept around the room, lingering on both Neville and then Harry. But astoundingly, the Potions master did not sneer at either Gryffindor. He merely looked at them, an exceptionally strange expression on his face and a dazed gleam in his eyes. It was almost like he were trying not to be surprised and that only his Occlumency shields were saving him. Yet, at the same time his face was somewhat vacant, much like the expression of Lockhart after he had accidentally _Obliviated_ himself.

Snapping out of his sort-of daze, the man immediately started what seemed to be a memorized speech about the importance and difficulty of NEWT Potions and that they would have to work hard to do well. This in and of itself was not something unexpected. But what truly surprised the class was the fact that there was no sarcasm in the teacher's voice, though there was a hint of his usual passion for the subject. Regardless, Snape simply spoke to them using a neutral voice, addressing them as though they were actually intelligent. Quite a change from his usual demeanor. There were no snide remarks made about the unsuitability of certain students, like Harry and Neville. In fact, the professor had seemingly forgotten about them entirely, a fact which was belied by the occasional drifting of the man's gaze to the two Gryffindors.

Finishing his speech, Snape waved his wand. And the instructions for the day's potion, a healing draught, appeared on the board. But even here the teacher's actions were strange; the instructions were given in far more detail than usual. Further, there were what appeared to be warnings as to what would happen if an ingredient was added at the wrong stage.

The students exchanged glances, only to receive another shock when Snape spoke.

"If you have any problems, turn to page 146 in your books. There is additional information about the potion," the professor said calmly before walking around to the other side of his desk and sitting down. He simply and blankly stared as the students moved to fetch their ingredients.

Feeling a bit disconcerted, Harry reached out with both his Legilimency and his Empathy to confirm that this was in fact the Severus Snape they all knew and loved. He gently connected with the man's emotional aura and received all the confirmation he needed. Rather expectedly, the dark man was a mixture of confusion and deeply hidden fear. Snape could tell that something was different within himself, different but not necessarily wrong. Additionally, he now had a strange pull towards his believed arch-nemesis, that dratted Potter boy. It was an odd pull, not one of attraction really. But more of a draw, a feeling which told him that they were connected in special some manner. A feeling that informed him he should be civil and, dare Severus even think it, nice to the younger wizard because the teenager was important to the Potions master in some unfathomable way. So very important.

That in and of itself would have been enough to drive Snape up the proverbial wall. Not to mention the much weaker but still noticeable pull he felt towards the other bane of his existence, Longbottom. However, there was still the fundamental change in himself to deal with. It was surprisingly that change that scared the man the most, far more than he would ever admit or show. As such, he was covering everything with an empty mask, hiding everything from everyone, including himself, until he could work out the change.

Slipping back to himself, the young wizard couldn't help but feel sorry for the Potions master. Mostly due to the fact that he knew the cause of the change in the man and the pull. But there wasn't anything he could currently do to help. He would simply have to wait it out.

Sighing, the young man returned to the task at hand. Nevertheless, before he did so, he first sent a little wave of hope to the professor. An emotional pick-me-up as it were.

Around a half-hour later, Harry had to fight to keep his face even as he added the excellently diced rosemary to the now turquoise potion. His returned memories had finally given him what five years of Professor Snape's class never could, a thorough understanding of potions. He now understood that potions must be stirred different ways depending on the ingredients and their properties so that everything would combine properly. He now knew that heat and the size of ingredients affected the rate at which substances were absorbed. He now comprehended that the metal of the cauldron could and did act as a catalyst. He understood the effect of lunar phase on ingredients, as well as dozen of other potions basics that he should have learned ages ago but hadn't. Yet, it was all fine now because it was all there in his head, and he vehemently thanked Quinn for his solid grounding in the subject.

Green eyes gazed at his potion as the reborn Salazar stirred counterclockwise seven times, an action which allowed the rosemary to be fully absorbed, before stirring it five times clockwise as he added the sage. He causally looked up, pretending to be rereading the instructions. In truth, he was seeing if Snape was still at his desk.

He was. The professor was still in the exact same position he had assumed at the beginning of class, sitting in his chair and staring blankly at the back wall. His dark eyes were half-lidded, making it seem like he was asleep or very close to it.

Shrugging his shoulders, Harry turned to Hermione to see if she had noticed the teacher's odd behavior. She apparently had… as had everyone else in the lesson. The entire class' attention kept flickering back from their work to their teacher and back again. A few of them shuddered now and then, finding the change in Snape's behavior very disconcerting. Everyone was used to him hovering about like a giant bat, so the quiet and the stillness were unusual and a bit bothersome.

Turning back to this work, Harry added the dried and powdered leech, sprinkling it lightly around in a circle. He watched as the potion turned the correct shade of lavender described in the book and on the board. Feeling a bit courageous at the moment and knowing that it wouldn't actually mess up the potion, the teenager added two pinches of ground mint to the concoction and stirred three times in a figure eight.

Five minutes later and with a cheeky grin plastered onto his face, Harry removed his potion from the fire, poured it in an unbreakable bottle, and proceeded to set it on the Potions master's desk. The professor finally turned his gaze from the back wall and simply watched the reborn Salazar under his still half-closed eyelids, the strangely vacant expression fixed on his face. As Harry walked back to his seat, he could still feel the other man's eyes on him, but he simply shrugged it off and cleaned up his work station.

The class ended shortly thereafter, but Harry lingered in the Potions classroom for a few minutes, pretending to be searching for something in his bag and further observing Professor Snape's odd behavior. The man hadn't even risen from his desk yet.

Later, the reborn Salazar was one of the last to queue up outside of Transfiguration, his next class. He slowly ambled over to the space between Hermione and Neville, casually leaning against the wall. Harry turned to comment about Potions to the witch, but she was searching through her one of her textbooks. Harry instead turned to Neville. Soon the two plus Seamus, Dean, and Ron were speculating as to what was going on, coming up with anything from the fumes finally getting to the Potions master to a creation gone wrong. Letting the four continue with the increasingly wild suggestions, Harry relaxed against the wall and turned his attention to the interesting conversation several of the Slytherin were having on the opposite side of the corridor.

"Even Longbottom did brilliant on his OWLs. Well, we know he made on Outstanding in Potions, though I'm not really sure how he did that with Professor Snape breathing down his neck during every lesson. But I heard that he actually had eleven," Millicent commented with a strange edge to her voice that sounded almost like admiration.

Her eyes flickered to Neville, who noticed her glance. After a moment's pause, he offered a tiny smile. Surprisingly, the Slytherin smiled back.

Blaise Zabini, who had been digging through his bag and had missed the entire exchange, did a double take. "Really? Can you imagine that?" he asked with incredulity. "I thought he was a rather poor student except in Herbology."

"**Him** making eleven OWLs! What is the world coming to?" Pansy Parkinson questioned, nudging him in the side.

Millicent gave her an evil look but suddenly smirked. "Well, seeing as I did exceptionally good, I can almost imagine doing that well on my OWLs. Unlike you, of course," she added in a sickeningly sweet undertone. "How many did you get again? Five? Six?" she asked him with a mocking quality to her voice.

"Eight!" Pansy answered fiercely. "And I only did poorly because I was ill that week!"

She was about to make what was undoubtedly a rude comment when Minerva opened the classroom door, ushering them inside. The woman cast a suspicious look at the now sulking Parkinson, showing that she had undoubtedly heard the witch insulting one of her Lions, but she strode up to the front without commenting. Waiting until everyone was seated, Minerva proceeded to give them yet another NEWT lecture, similar to the one Harry had received from Flitwick yesterday and Snape earlier. She stressed the importance of the NEWT class, making it quite clear that it was difficult and would most likely become even more difficult as they went.

Her eyes locked with each student in turn as the silence stretched out after her speech. However, when her eyes met Harry's, some strange emotion passed through them. It was just a flash, much like the one that occurred when one suddenly remembered something important but forgot it just as quickly. But it obviously startled Minerva because she forcefully shook her head, eliciting several strange glances from her students.

Afterwards, the teacher set them a task, a simple and silently cast Conjuring spell, which succeeded in completely frustrating the majority of the students in less than ten minutes. Harry, however, wasn't one of them because he could already cast the spell successfully. Yet, he didn't want to attract undue attention to himself, so he put on airs of attempting to perform it. He used the time to his advantage since he didn't actually need the practice and studied Minerva.

She, like Snape, had a strangely empty look to her face, and her grey eyes kept traveling to the part of the room he was at. Even though she moved from student to student, helping and chastising them as needed, her eyes still strayed back to the reborn Salazar. It was almost as if he were an incredibly difficult puzzle that she was desperate to solve. Several times their gazes met, but she hastily averted her eyes each time. Further, she pretended that she wasn't watching him. As such, she didn't call him out for not working on the spell. But less than a moment later, her eyes would always return to Harry, and the cycle would start anew.

The young wizard knew that Minerva's behavior had a root much similar to Snape's. She, too, could sense the change within herself. Further, she could already feel the pull towards Harry and the stirrings of a much weaker one to Neville. But unlike the Potions master, this draw did not frighten her, though it still appeared to confuse her greatly. Regardless, she seemed to be putting it down to the friendlier relationship she now shared with her student. Minerva was thankfully not fighting the pull. In fact, the teenager sensed that she was embracing it. This didn't mean that she was going to throw caution to the wind, however. She was still watchful about it, if a bit curious as well, which explained her searching glances.

After a while Minerva's bizarre behavior began to lose its fascination, not to mention the fact that he had yet to finish the assignment, so he finally went back to the classwork. He successfully cast it on his first true attempt, and the reborn Salazar happily held up the lovely yet simple ring he had conjured.

"Excellent work, Mr. Potter," a voice whispered in his ear, so soft that the rest of the students hadn't even heard. A hand gently squeezed his shoulder.

Harry turned around to look at Minerva. "Thank you, Professor." He gave her a cheeky grin and a wink. "I had an excellent teacher."

Professor McGonagall snorted. "Indeed." She smiled and moved on, going to lecture Seamus about the inappropriate use of his wand, but Harry could still see her eyes occasionally traveling to him, watching intently.

The rest of the lesson passed quickly enough, doubly so since there were only five minutes left before the bell. Once more the green-eyed teenager hung back after the others, but this time it was only so he could give Minerva a jaunty little wave before he headed off to have lunch with Luna.

That afternoon, he had a wonderful meal with his girlfriend. Where he gifted her with the silver ring he had conjured, one which had a unique pattern of twining serpents on the inside. Additionally, Harry received a note from Albus, asking him to visit the headmaster's office the next night at eight. The young wizard used his free time to his advantage after lunch, traveling to the Sorting Hat's room.

There, he met Fawkes and the wonderful Hat. He was also introduced to the crazy portrait of Merlin, an action which caused him to laugh somewhat hysterically for five minutes. Much to the bemusement of Hogwarts and Fawkes and to the confusion of the poor painted man. Luckily though, Merlin didn't take offense; he merely shrugged the incident off, thinking the other man to be slightly touched in the head.

Afterwards, Harry finally got down to business discussing his plans for bring back the other Founders, Voldemort's probable attack on Hogwarts, and Bellatrix's plea for help. The Hat, phoenix, and castle took the news quite well, commenting in all the right places and further helping him iron out details. After an hour, they had clearly planned out way of bringing the other Founders to the appropriate place and time, the very room they were currently occupying a week from Friday afternoon. They had additionally decided that Fawkes was to distract Albus while their little meeting was going on. Not only that, but the phoenix was to deliver a message to Bellatrix as soon as their discussion was finished, hopefully soliciting a response from the witch.

Hogwarts, on the other hand, was going to start increasing her defenses with the help of Dom, Luna, Harry, and the others later on and brainstorming on creating a few surprises. As for the Sorting Hat… well, it got the easiest and safest job of all. Or maybe the opposite. It was to tutor Harry in all the branches of magic that he felt he needed to work on. So basically everything, starting with Divination and then on to working on the young wizard's homework.

It was from this, that Harry also finally managed to solve the longstanding and nearly forgotten mystery of his Outstanding OWL in Divination. As Fawkes and the Hat had explained it, Madam Marchbanks had been thoroughly unimpressed by his palmistry and his crystal ball skills. But less than an hour after the test, Griselda had answered the door to her rooms only to be met by a dripping wet and thoroughly soaked fourth-year, the unfortunate student having met Peeves on his way. The boy was to bring her immediately to the headmistress' office.

Afterwards, Griselda began to consider the other statements Harry had made to her, particularly the pronouncement that she should have died the previous Tuesday. It was then that Madam Marchbanks had recalled an incident where her pet Kneazle had prevented her from eating a sampling of chocolates sent to her by Lucius Malfoy. After she thought about it, the witch had remembered that they had appeared a bit off color. So it had been a somewhat shaken examiner that had rethought the young wizard's OWL score for Divination, giving him an Outstanding.

All in all, it was a somewhat tired Harry Potter, who stumbled out of the Sorting Hat's room roughly five hours later with all of his homework caught up. Not that there was that much or that it was hard with his returned memories. And new Divination information seeping into his brain, plans and plots swirling in his thoughts.

* * *

**_Hogwarts, Sixth Year Gryffindor Boys' Dorm: The Same Day (Late Night)_**

Harry was having a most wonderful dream involving Luna, the Room of Requirement, and marmalade when his senses suddenly registered a presence. Hogwarts sent out a warning. The Phoenix Gate warmed unexpectedly, and a hand shook him awake. His reaction was instantaneous. He was out of bed, his wand in hand with his other hand on his disturber's chest and the boy now on Harry's bed. Belatedly, the reborn Slytherin noticed that it was Neville's uncertain face staring up at him, and he released his friend with an apology.

"Oh, Neville. I'm so sorry," Harry whispered, pulling the other teenager to his feet.

Neville shrugged. "That's alright, Harry. I only came to check on you because I thought you were having a nightmare. You kept making strange sounds."

Harry's eyebrow rose at the last statement, wondering how the other wizard could possibly know that. He had cast a Silencing charm on his curtains, just in case he really did have a nightmare and screamed in his sleep. Green eyes glanced around the room, confirming his earlier estimation that the rest of his roommates were asleep. His gaze drifted back to Neville, and he silently asked Hogwarts if his charm was still up. She wordlessly sent back an affirmative.

'Now this is unexpected,' the reborn Slytherin thought, noticing that the other teenager was still looking at him. 'If he is already showing some of his old powers, then things are better for us than I thought. Or maybe it's the connection Hogwarts established between us.' Tentatively, Harry checked the bond with his Empathy, finding that it was a combination of the aforementioned two that had altered Neville.

Harry smiled softly and moved to sit on his bed. He waved his hand in invitation for the other to join, but Neville refused the offer.

"Thanks, my friend, but I wasn't having a nightmare," he murmured in a strange tone. "I appreciate the gesture though."

The other wizard looked at him skeptically. "So no vision?" At the other's look, he continued, "Well, the thing is, Harry, I heard you moaning in your sleep," the still round-faced young man answered with a tilt of his head.

Harry fought the urge to flush. "It wasn't a vision, Neville. It was… er… something else, he put in after a moment. "Not a nightmare," he hastened to add.

Nevertheless, Neville looked like he didn't quite believe him.

To say that Harry was mortified over the whole situation was the understatement of the century, perhaps the millennium. He did manage to hide it quite well, if he did say so himself, but Hogwarts' gleeful laughter in the back of his mind was not helping all that much. Regardless, the young man merely blinked, looking up at Neville with a faint blush on his cheeks. The reborn Slytherin was torn between the desire for the Earth to swallow him whole, the wish that the castle would mind its own bloody business, and the feeling of happiness that rose up in his chest at the other teenager's obvious concern for his well-being. Thankfully, happiness won, but it was a close thing.

"Thanks for your concern though, my friend," Harry wizard said, fighting the blush and successfully killing it.

"Are you sure it wasn't a nightmare?" Neville asked again, still not believing.

Harry nodded. "No, it wasn't. I'm perfectly fine. I promise." He heard Hogwarts give the castle equivalent of a snort.

"But you were moaning…" Neville gazed at him blankly for a second before his eyebrows rose dramatically, and his lips thinned. It actually looked like he wanted to laugh but didn't want to upset his friend. "Oh…" he muttered with understanding. He looked at Harry knowingly.

Harry's cheeks, which had managed to return to their normal color, suddenly flushed pink as his supposedly stable Occlumency shields cracked ever-so-slightly. With a smile, the other teenager backed away from his friend's bed.

"Goodnight, Harry," he inserted, lips twitching.

The still mortified Harry rubbed a hand over his face. "Goodnight, Neville." He watched as the other boy moved back to his bed. The reborn Salazar was a about to close his curtains once more, making sure that he used a stronger Silencing spell, when he heard Neville speak again.

"Sweet dreams."

Harry could have sworn that somewhere, in the back of his mind, he heard Hogwarts cackle.

* * *

**_Hogwarts, Defense Classroom: September 4th, 1996_**

"I must confess, class," Professor Boyd began without preamble, crossing his arms over his chest and assuming his usual position on the corner of his desk. "I am quite disappointed in the answers I received on the review Monday."

A ripple of surprise passed through the students.

"Had this been a real assignment, over half of the class would have failed. Only four students had over seventy percent. And of those four, only one managed to get them all correct. This is basic knowledge, class." The professor exhaled then, shaking his head. "Everyone should have passed with above an eighty percent." Dominic unexpectedly reached behind him and pulled out a previously unnoticed book. It was old-looking but obviously well-cared for and in excellent condition.

The man gently opened the thick purple-black leather cover, running his fingers over the silvery runes, and turned to the first page. "According to Merlin's Compendium of Magik, Dark and Light are definitions that do not exist in nature but arose due to humans and other peoples. Further, Dark is defined as magic that is inherently powerful and gravitates towards being wilder. As a general rule, Dark is considered to be destructive. However, it can create just as easily as destroy. As Lord Merlin writes, '_Evil is neither in the Dark nor the Light but in the intent with which each is used_.'"

Professor Boyd abruptly closed the book, the snap sounding through the silent room. He gazed out at them for several heartbeats, silvery eyes weighing and thoughtful.

"As you can undoubtedly guess, I am also quite surprised by your definition of Dark. Even though it was an opinion based question, only one person gave me anything near the true definition." He replaced the book on the desk and rose to his feet, eyes now blazing. "Magic, all magic – whether Dark or Light – is all about context. But even more importantly, it is about **intent**," the teacher enunciated the word clearly. "For example, the Killing curse is not inherently evil, no matter what the Ministry says," he admonished softly, already guessing the vehement denials he was about to receive.

The entire class gaped at him in a dead silence at the statement before Seamus suddenly shouted, "What?"

Murmurs of agreement broke out.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor quieted them with a single glance, his jaded face taking on a hard edge. "It is true, I assure you. The Killing curse is not evil nor is the person who casts it. The evil is in the intent. The curse is meant to deliver death. Yes, that is true, but it all depends on context," he stated slowly, emphasizing each word carefully. "The Killing curse can be used for a mercy killing; did you know that?" he asked, already deducing the answer. "In fact, there are several documented cases where it was used for just that, for mercy to end suffering. In those instances, the caster used it to help a loved one end their life, often because they suffered from a disease or perhaps even another curse."

"But, sir," Susan Bones interrupted, "doesn't a person have to actually mean it?"

Professor Boyd nodded slowly. "To successfully cast this curse, a person must honestly want to bring death to another, but still, that does not mean that the magic or they are evil. They simply want someone to die. Yet, as I said, it can still be for mercy. Or it can be used for defense. The caster simply has to mean it."

"For defense?" Dean put in incredulously.

"Yes, defense, Mr. Thomas." The teacher studied the Gryffindor carefully, causing the boy to squirm under the intense scrutiny. "Tell me, Mr. Thomas," he inserted smoothly, a predatory cast to his face, "if you were to find someone attacking your friends, your family. If you were to find them harming those you loved with the intent to kill them, would you not fight back, defend your family?"

Dean hesitated for a moment but nodded.

"And if their attacker was going to kill them. If he – or she – would not stop no matter what," the professor went on, his gaze boring into his pupil, "would you not kill them? Would you not use lethal force, if it was the only way to save those you love?"

The dark-skinned boy merely gaped at him as did the rest of the class, Harry included. However, Dean didn't reply to his teacher. His silence was answer enough.

Professor Boyd finished, a look of concentration on his face, "Then, you would defend with intent to kill. And as such, you would be quite capable of using _Avada Kedavra_ effectively."

A shiver ran through the class at the use of the curse's true name.

Dominic didn't seem to notice. "Then, why not use the Killing curse to protect them? It is quick, clean, painless, not to mention very efficient." His gaze once more traveled around the room. "Tell me, Mr. Thomas, you are Muggleborn, correct?"

Dean nervously nodded his head. "Er… yes."

"What if it was Death Eaters attacking your family then? Would you use the Killing curse? I can assure you that, if you did, you would be showing far more mercy to them than they will ever show to your kin or you."

Pansy Parkinson spoke with horror, "But the Killing curse is illegal, Professor!"

"Yes, yes, it is," Professor Boyd conceded with merriment, obviously confusing most of the class with the emotion. "And why is that exactly, Miss Parkinson? After all, there are other spells that are just as lethal and far more torturous."

"I…" she began but faltered. Her eyes flickered to Millicent and Blaise, wordlessly asking for help.

However, the other Slytherins shrugged.

"I don't know, sir."

"Hm…" The teacher once more crossed his arms and tapped his chin. His eyes traveled around the room, momentarily meeting Harry's and the vampire gave a mental wink.

"Let us take an example from the review then: _Aestuo Sangre_, _Caput Abrumpo_, and _Tripudio Obstrepo_. The first two are curses specifically designed to kill and to inflect terrible pain while doing so. One is a hex that gradually boils the victim's blood, while the other slowly decapitates. And yet, the last – a relatively harmless spell considering the other two – is the Dark one." Dominic paused, considering.

All of the students were complete quiet, hanging on his every word. And his focus swept across the room.

"Did you know that the _Tripudio Obstrepo_ carries an automatic sentence of ten years in Azkaban?" Professor Boyd asked rhetorically. "You cast this, and you will go to one of the worst places on Earth. You cast this, a simple Tap-dancing curse, and you will spend a decade with the Dementors." He let his statement sink in. "Yet, you cast _Aestuo Sangre_ and kill someone with it, and nothing will happen. You will go to the Ministry, answer questions, and then, you will go home at the end of the day. No trial, no prison, no punishment of any kind. All because one is Dark and the other Light, and it is not the deadly one that is forbidden."

The class simply gawked at him. Seamus even had his mouth hanging open, while Dean shivered involuntarily. The Slytherins simply exchanged knowing looks, and Blaise nudged his desk-mate Millicent, the pair attempting to stop Pansy from trembling. Malfoy's eyes flickered instantly to Hermione, a nameless something passing between them when their gazes locked.

Meanwhile, Harry fought the urge to smirk as Dom was slowly eroding away the ideal that Dark was evil. The vampire was doing something he so desperately wanted to do himself, and he would eventually, adding to what the professor had already started.

After several moments of quiet, whispers began to break out among the students.

"But why?" Blaise Zabini murmured, more to himself than anyone in particular.

Yet, everyone still heard him.

The professor smiled, and it was a dangerous think. "That is the thousand Galleon question, Mr. Zabini."

From the side, Hermione inclined her head and slowly raised her hand. For the past few minutes, she had been quietly considering the puzzle. And now, she wanted to add to the discussion.

"Yes, Miss Granger."

"The Killing curse is illegal with few exceptions, correct?" Hermione put in with an ever-growing amount of awe in her voice; this lesson was not what she had expected at all. At the professor's nod, she went on, "If there are so many other ways that are meant to kill people, and in much more painful ways, why aren't they also illegal?"

The teacher raised his eyebrows. "Another excellent question and one I do not have an answer for. Honestly, I do not know, Miss Granger. And if you do or if you can ever reason it out, then you are far wiser than I." He paused for a moment before continuing, "In all honesty, most of the Ministry laws regarding Dark Arts do not center on spells that are necessarily destructive or deadly in nature, but rather spells with which previous Ministry employees had bad experiences and wished to do away with."

The students looked at him in disbelief. The professor merely shrugged it off.

"It is true, I can assure you. If you do not believe me, then look it up. It is all there in the Ministry logs, the ones dealing with classification of spells. The reasons for the ban are listed with each spell." Professor Boyd rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "For instance and going back to an earlier example, _Tripudio Obstrepo_ is a forbidden spell because in 1776 the then-Minister, Nicodemus Cromwell, was hexed with this spell by an American wizard. The man in question refused to lift the curse, so Minister Cromwell – who was quite incompetent and who could not remove it himself – was forced to tap-dance through the corridors of the Ministry until he found someone to remove it." The teacher actually grinned then, as though he were remembering. But that was silly because he couldn't have possibly been there.

"As you may well guess," he finally added, "Cromwell was infuriated and quite humiliated, so he had the spell moved to the list of banned Dark Arts." Professor Boyd frowned at the continuing shock he seemed to be receiving from his students. His gaze darted around the room before landing on Harry.

The young wizard in question only had a mental wink as a warning before the professor spoke to him.

"You have been rather quiet today, Mr. Potter. If I am to believe what the other professors have told me, I would have thought you to make a comment by now." The vampire quietly stepped into the aisle between desks and approached the young man.

Harry tilted his head at the remark and gazed at the man. He had a sneaking suspicion that he was being set up.

"I'm sorry, Professor, but I didn't feel my opinions needed to be voiced at the time."

From beside him, he heard Hermione snort, while the other students watched the exchange with mounting interest.

"Really? And what is your opinion on our little discussion, Mr. Potter?" Professor Boyd asked.

Yes, the vampire was most definitely setting him up for something. Harry tried to determine Dom's aim by reaching with his senses, but the other man's shields were too strong for him to get a measure of what was going on.

Yet, a mental "_Just play along_" was enough for the young wizard to continue.

"The discussion?" Harry seemed to ponder the question for a moment. "Well, I think that banning certain spells is a good idea, but they don't seem to ban any magic worth forbidding. But then, you get into the argument of deciding what is dangerous and what isn't, so it all turns into a giant mess. After all, you can kill someone with a well placed Tickling charm, so how are you to decide what should be illegal?"

The class turned to look at him incredulously.

However, the teacher merely smiled. "That is quite true, Mr. Potter. The charm is designed to affect nerves," he explained gently. "As everyone here undoubtedly knows, a direct jolt to certain nerves can, for lack of a better word, short them out. You hit a certain nerve. And that, as they say, is that. Instant and painful death." Professor Boyd let off an ironic laugh. "Not to mention that you can kill someone with something as simple as a Reductor spell or a Severing charm. Nevertheless, getting back to what Mr. Potter mentioned earlier, it is rather difficult to decide what is dangerous and what is not. Once again, it all depends upon context. Simple and normally straightforward spells can become deadly in the wrong hands."

The teacher paused in his speech and walked back to the front of the room so that he would be facing the entire group. Yet, this time, he did not sit on his desk. He merely watched them instead for several long minutes.

"And that, class, brings me to my most important point of this lesson or possibly even the whole year." Professor Boyd gave his trademark smile. "I am renaming this course. From now on, it will be Defense. Simply **Defense**. I will teach you to face anything, to be able to protect yourselves and your families from everything: Dark Arts, Light magic, creatures, beings, zombies, Veela, vampires, werewolves, witches, wizards, centaurs,

Goblins. Anything and everything."

The class shivered at his last statement, but the look of determination on his face spoke volumes. The professor would make sure that they would be able to do just that.

* * *

**_Cornwall, Gryffin's Nest: Spring, 953 A.D._**

"Are you sure you want to do this, Sal? There is no turning back once we do. It's for forever," Godric Gryffindor stated, resting his hand on the shoulder of a dark-haired teenager.

Salazar nodded. "I don't think I have ever been as sure as this before," he commented with a wink. "I want this, and I know you do as well," he added, but a sad shadow crossed over his face. "It has not been the same since Solaris died. It feels as though I have no family," he whispered, putting his hand up to halt the denying statement his friend was about to make. He gave the other male a sad smile.

"No, it's true. I felt as though I had no **proper** family. You and Row have been great; you're like my brother and sister, and Helga has been like a cross between a favorite aunt and a mother." He paused then, trying to collect his thoughts. "But the thing is… you have been **like** my family. I mean, you are my family. Yet, at the same time, you're not." He sighed before continuing, "I know it's silly, but I feel as though there is nothing holding us together--"

"But there are things that bind us together," the blond interrupted. "Friendship… love," he added with a playful grimace.

The teenager shook his head. "I know that, but we aren't connected like most families. Rowena is your cousin, and Helga is your mother's youngest sister. We, you and me, aren't related by blood." He paused before correcting himself, "Well, we are. But it is so distant as to not matter."

Godric simply stared at him for a moment, a strange gleam in his golden eyes. Then, he did something completely unexpected. He laughed.

"Salazar, Salazar," he chuckled. "Don't be daft!" He moved to place his other hand on the teenager's free shoulder, squeezing gently. "You'll one day learn, my friend, that there are many types of connections for families. That of blood and flesh happens to be the weakest."

"I know that it's not supposed to matter," the younger wizard replied loftily. "Yet, I just can't help thinking this way." He glanced to the floor, refusing to meet the other's eyes.

Godric studied him for a moment, his face softening. "It doesn't matter that there is no blood. We're brothers still and always will be." He playfully mussed Salazar's dark hair, all but destroying his ponytail and making the younger male scowl at him in annoyance. "But alas, I can still see your point. I hate that you feel this way, but you can't help how you feel. And I can't blame you for it either. I know that you fear that you will lose us, which you won't, but you still want insurance--"

"Which is why you offered to… er… adopt me," Sal put in helpfully, finally looking up, and his eyes sparkled with noticeable excitement. "That is why we are going to mix our blood and magic."

"It's actually more of a mutual adoption, really. I become your brother; you become mine." Godric stated with great emphasis, "And that is not the only reason. I offered because I wanted it to be permanent. I wanted the whole world to know that you are family."

Green eyes blinked. "You wanted them to know that we are family, that you love me," he whispered with thinly veiled hope. He reached with his senses and could instantly feel the older man's pride and affection for him.

Twenty-two-year-old Godric Gryffindor grinned brightly and answered with all the honesty he can muster, "Yes, yes… I do. I've always wanted a sibling," he said, squeezing the teenager's shoulder once more.

Salazar smiled and finally moved to fix his hair after noticing the man snicker at it. "And now, you will have one," he added after a moment. He sniggered at the thought, silently suggesting that the blond had no idea what he was getting into.

However, the Godric merely grinned and ruffled the restored ponytail. "Perhaps I had one all long; I am just making sure that everyone else knows about it."

* * *

_Aestuo Sangre_: Blood Boil. Verbal and non-verbal. Causes the blood of the victim to boil.

_Caput Abrumpo_: Decapitation. Verbal and non-verbal. Decapitates the victim.

_Tripudio Obstrepo_: Tap-dancing. Verbal and non-verbal. Forces the recipient to tap dance until the spell is lifted.

AN: I wonder how many of you saw that one coming. Might I direct you to a line from the Sorting Hat's song: _Brothers in everything but name_. I meant that literally. They adopted each other by magic and blood but kept their original names. Further, to explain how everyone is related: Godric's mother was by birth a Hufflepuff, but she changed her name when she married. Helga kept her maiden name, and Edmund took her name for reasons that aren't really important. Rowena is a distant cousin; she is about as closely related to Godric as Sirius is to Draco Malfoy.

**Things to consider**: Snape feels strangely for the reason as does Minerva. The fact that Neville could hear through the Silencing spell will come into play later as will his OWL scores. Salazar's blood adoption and connection to Godric is incredibly important. Also, remember that by virtue of the adoption, Siobhan was Gryffindor's sister-in-law and Tristan was his nephew, which means that he could actually carry on the Gryffindor line.

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to _Hobbit-Tabby_ for the beta and to Our Catholic Faith (online) for the Latin translation.

_Chapter Twenty-One: Before the Plunge_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**06/10/08**


	22. Before the Plunge

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**_"blah"_** : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One: ****Before the Plunge**

**_Unknown: September 5th, 1996_**

Bellatrix Lestrange twitched, and her eyes flickered about her room, momentarily scanning everything before returning to the book that laid in front of her. However, she made no actual effort to read it. Once more her gaze unfocused, the book on Concealing charms, Anti-tracking wards, and other useful methods of disappearance blurring completely. She shivered.

There it was again. The feeling that she was being watched. She had felt it all day, felt the weight of some hidden gaze. She could just feel someone's eyes on her, studying her every move, and it sent chills up her spine.

Was it Tom? Did he know?

Was it her husband? Did he suspect?

Was it another Death Eater? Were they watching?

She trembled once more and drew up her blanket tightly around her mid-section. She had to get out. She had to leave… flee… run. She just had to go.

It was the only option. It was her only chance. It was her child's only chance.

She steadied a shaking hand on her stomach, rubbing gently. It was a calming motion, a soothing one that always brought it comfort, something she sorely needed. But what she really needed was help, someone… anyone to turn to.

But Sirius was dead. She didn't know if Potter would believe her desperate plea. She couldn't trust Cissy. Andy would turn her away. She had no friends. Her husband did not love her; he didn't even like her. He had never treated her as a wife or even as a person. She was a possession, a thing to be owned. And most of the time, he was simply indifferent unless there was something to gain from showing interest.

A way of nausea hit her, and she moved her head between her knees. Just the thought of what Rodolphus would do if he ever discovered her pregnancy was enough to make any sane person ill. That man was a treacherous, conniving monster, who would and did stab his own mother in the back. Bella had seen what he had done to the Longbottoms, Frank and Alice. It was only by the grace of Siobhan herself that Bellatrix had seen the little boy first and had managed to hide him. To keep him safe from the raving lunatics that were her lawfully wedded husband, his deranged brother, and the sniveling sycophant, Barty Crouch Junior.

Once more, she shuddered. But this time from the memory of that horrible night. It was one she would never forget. It had been raining; Bellatrix remembered that clearly. It had poured, as if the heavens themselves had opened up. She vividly recalled the way the screams were punctuated by the steady sound of water hitting the roof. How Alice had held her gaze entire time, giving an almost imperceptible shake of her head between the bouts of _Cruciatus_ and warning the other woman from helping. How Alice had given her the look that every mother has perfected but hopes never to use. The one that clearly said, "please, protect my child because I cannot." How she had never looked around for her son because she knew… she knew that Bella would hide him, had hid him. She had known he was safe because she knew Bella, and she had trusted her in that moment of weakness. Alice had trusted a known Death Eater because she knew something that no one else did.

Everyone thought that the Longbottoms had been attacked because they, the Death Eaters, were searching for Voldemort, but that wasn't the only motive. No, they had targeted Frank and Alice for another reason entirely. They were Aurors, and they were receiving inside information from someone in the Inner Circle. Someone was spying on the Dark Lord Voldemort. One of his own followers had turned against him, had been leaking information to the Aurors Longbottom for months. The same someone had warned them about three separate planned attacks on them, information which had allowed them to escape from Voldemort each time.

Rodolphus and Rabastan had actually been hoping to retrieve the identity of the informant from the Longbottoms, in the hopes that the spy knew their master's location and had simply not been forthcoming. Little did the Lestrange brothers and Barty know that the person they had brought along with them on their little information retrieval was actually their betrayer. Voldemort's right-hand man. Well… woman really.

It was truly ironic. Bellatrix had gone to Alice Longbottom over a year earlier and had confessed her sins. Once upon a time, she had truly believed in what Tom Riddle preached; she had believed completely and utterly that the Muggles would one day discover them and that the Mudblood scum would betray their magical brethren. It had happened before. And it was only by the doings of a brave sorceress, her husband, and a magical artifact that magical kind had managed to survive. Even now, almost two millennia later, they still talked about the Roman uprising. About the atrocities committed by the Muggles and La Muerte's heroic defiance.

Bellatrix had learned that history lesson well, one that her aunt had taught her. And so had believed that the Muggles would one day rediscover them, most likely due to the idiotic behavior of Mudbloods. They were always going back and forth between the mundane and the magical worlds, using their gifts where they shouldn't and to people who were not trustworthy. And they didn't even care if they were exposed. There had been countless incidents of Muggleborns being outted as magical; it was only due to Memory charms, continued Muggle ignorance, and the belief in parlor tricks that they hadn't been found out completely. For the sake of the Maker, that idiot Houdini actually had his magic caught in Muggle pictures. But thankfully, they still hadn't realized what they were looking at.

And for all this, for the constant risk of exposure, the Muggleborns needed to be stopped. They were simply too much of a hazard.

But inexplicably, Bella had begun to have doubts, not about the danger of exposure. No, that fear remained. Nevertheless, she had started to doubt their methods. How they simply tortured and killed the Mudbloods, instead of trying to reason with them. One day, she had just known that what they were doing was wrong. She hadn't known why or where her doubts came from, but they had just suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. She had been in Hogsmeade, just walking down the street, when she had seen the light, both literally and figuratively. The night sky had been lit with a bright flash, completely blanking out the stars. And then, it was as if her entire perspective had shifted.

And that was what had eventually led her to the Longbottoms. She had gone to them, secretly hoping for a swift execution. What she had actually gotten was an option to turn spy under the condition that the Longbottoms would tell no one her identity with a pass from Azkaban, an annulment of her marriage, and a new life somewhere far away once the war was over.

And that, too, was ironic. Just as it was ironic that she had gone to a Gryffindor. Yet, there was a reason behind what many would see as madness, a Slytherin seeking help from a Gryffindor. Bellatrix had gone to the former Lion because they had been in the same year at Hogwarts and because the other girl had seen beyond the House lines, always acting friendly with everyone, even the Slytherins. Bella had admired her for that, for doing something she was never brave enough to do herself. Perhaps if things had been different, they could have even been friends. Friends instead of informant and Auror as they had later become.

But that was all the past now, and it couldn't be changed. There was only the present and the future to think of. Bellatrix couldn't help shudder as she thought about Rodolphus and what he would do if he ever discovered that she was carrying another man's child, much less the child of--

She shook her head, driving the horrid thought away. Rubbing her temples, she leaned forward and rested her chin on her chest. With a sigh she was about to turn back to her book, but the feeling of being watched heightened unexpectedly. Bellatrix's head snapped up, and her wand appeared in her hand, pointed determinately at a burst of flame suspended midair.

There was a phoenix in her bedroom.

And the first words out of Bellatrix's mouth were "Fawkes" followed by "You've been watching me!"

Fawkes smirked and landed on the edge of the desk. "That I have, Lady Bellatrix. Truth be told, I have been checking your aura and monitoring your thoughts as well," he responded candidly.

And Bellatrix's mouth dropped open, only to snap shut as his words completely sunk in, not to mention the fact that phoenixes really **could** talk. Her sudden bout of reveries suddenly made sense. The bloody bird had been directing her mind! He wanted to see her true level of involvement in the fiasco.

"Yes, I wanted to see what had occurred. What had actually occurred that night," he answered as though he had been reading her mind, which he probably had. "And I had no idea. None at all." He looked at her in a sort of wonder.

"It seems as though no one did," she put in with a slightly dazed tone.

"You saved the boy, Neville. You saved him. Without your interference, they would have killed him outright." He eyed her for a moment before asking, "And how is it that no one knew? Neville was old enough by then to talk about it or to have Pensieve memories of the event made."

"_Obliviated_," she whispered quietly. "He was _Obliviated_. He was babbling about it to the Ministry workers after they found him. They thought him befuddled and a victim, so they destroyed the memory, hoping that it would help heal him." She grimaced. "Besides, they didn't want to believe that a Death Eater could show compassion, even if it was to a child."

Fawkes' face twitched in understanding. "Ah, yes. The infamous _Obliviate_. Hogwarts and I are still working to reverse the effects. I still don't know how Dolores Umbridge managed to keep her job after bollocksing up that one."

The pair lapsed into silence for a minute before the human spoke again, finally realizing something. "Isn't it dangerous for you to be here? Someone might see you, and you have undoubtedly set off the wards," she said, still quite shaken by the entire situation.

Anyone could waltz in at any moment and see the blasted bird perched on her desk. But then, she reasoned, her wards would alert her beforehand. Or at least, they should. But they hadn't warned her about the feathered menace in the first place.

Fawkes seemed to pick up on her anxiety. "No worries, dear, I will know if anyone approaches, and the wards are set for wizards and other human-like beings. They don't even register my presence," he replied, doing his best to put her at ease. "Besides, my magic allows me to be invisible to anyone save yourself. It is an interesting trick, truly," he commented absentmindedly, as though he hadn't a care in the word and still attempting to soothe her. "I could use it to spy, but sadly, I can only travel to known locations or people. With the personal wards around Tom, he would know I was there in an instant." He looked at her solemnly. "Besides, I had an important message to deliver."

He indicated his talon, and she belatedly noticed the parchment clasped in it. Not knowing if she should move to retrieve it or not, Bellatrix simply remained still. However, the phoenix sighed and hopped across the desk to her, depositing the message in her hand before skipping away.

Bellatrix hesitated before rapidly reading and then re-reading. Her mouth dropped open once more, and her eyes widened as she did a double-take. The expression on her face would have actually been quite comical, if it weren't for the seriousness of the situation.

"Is this… I mean… is it?" she attempted to ask the phoenix through her shock. "Is this… for real?" she finished with unmistakable hope.

The phoenix simply nodded and then did something truly remarkable. He flew over to her shoulder and nuzzled her hair. And it felt as though a great weight, a great crushing and terrible weight, had been lifted from her chest. He was going to help. He, Harry, was going to help her. To help them.

A strange and powerful emotion rose up in her chest, and she suddenly felt like crying, something she that seemed to be doing a lot of lately.

They had help. They had a chance. That was more than anyone else had given them. And it was enough.

* * *

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Outside the Headmaster's Office: September 6th, 1996_**

_Dear Harry,_

_I would like to discuss a few things with you on. Kindly come along to my office at 8 p.m. I hope you are enjoying your first few days back at school._

_Yours sincerely,**  
Albus**_

_P.S. I am quite fond of Canary Creams._

Green eyes flickered from the letter in his hand, one he had received the day before during lunch, to the gargoyle statue in front of him. A pleased smirk crossed Harry's face as he scanned the last line once more, and he chuckled slightly. Still laughing, he tucked the letter into a hidden pocket of his robes and turned to the statue, which was eyeing him strangely.

"Canary Creams," he said merrily, knowing that he hadn't really needed the password since Hogwarts would have allowed him in regardless. But he still couldn't resist using it as he, too, liked the sweet.

The young wizard politely waited as the statue moved, watching as the gargoyle gifted him a faint nod and a smile before opening. The teenager gave the statue a murmur of thanks and a wink as he stepped inside and up the stairs. Briefly, the teenager paused outside of the door, fighting the strange feeling rising in his stomach. It was part nervousness added in with giddiness, a hint of pride, and the obscene needed to laugh manically. It was the same feeling he always had when meeting with Dumbledore nowadays.

Psyching himself up and exhaling slowly, along with a prod from the castle, he gently reached for the knob. Harry entered the headmaster's office, only to be immediately greeted by Albus at the door. The elderly man's eyes sparkled as he beamed down at the younger wizard. Though the difference in their height was quickly becoming far smaller as the younger man aged, he was still at least a head shorter than his professor. Dumbledore patted the teenager on the shoulder and steered him forward to a plush purple armchair.

Unexpectedly, Harry's latent Empathy arose probably due to his nervousness. Deciding against pushing it down with his mental shields, he let it be. Instantly picking up on a few of the headmaster's emotions.

"How have you been, my dear boy?" Albus inquired, looking at Harry with a mixture of affection and pride. He discreetly offered the younger wizard a lemon drop, only have his grin widen as the teenager accepted.

Harry held the lemony candy in his hand and replied, "Quite well, Albus, though I did have a bit of a shock yesterday. And you?" he shot back pleasantly, slipping the treat into his mouth.

"I am well also." For a moment, a look of confusion crossed the elderly teacher's expression as he thought about the earlier part of Harry's statement, but then, his face lit with understanding. "Ah, yes. Professor Boyd's little Dark Arts discussion. He seems to have surprised quite a number of people, several professors included."

Harry studied him closely. "But not you." It was a statement, not a question.

The headmaster chuckled. "Not as much as he did the others," he allowed, settling back in his chair and looking at the young man in front of him.

Over the past few weeks, Albus had greatly enjoyed their improved relationship, which was now one of equals. As such, they had finally started to know one another. Really know each other.

"I did have a bit of forewarning though," he stated with a hint of amusement. "The professor told me straight out during his interview about his views of both the Ministry and the Dark, and I can't help but agree with him on many issues."

Harry feigned shock. "The great Albus Dumbledore, purveyor of knowledge and beacon of Light, agreeing that the Dark isn't evil. What is the world coming to?" the reborn Salazar inquired with a slight smirk, reaching for another lemon drop.

Albus' smile widened, and he winked. "Well, my boy, you already know that. While I may favor the Light, my heart truly follows the path of good. And as such, I know the difference between what is **thought** to be evil and what truly **is** evil," he answered readily enough, entering into the now familiar pattern of part debate and part discussion that all their talks seemed to follow.

They had covered many topics during their exchanges, going far beyond discussion of their childhoods and lives and venturing into their own beliefs and philosophies. They had even gone over their differing, yet surprisingly similar, views of the magical world. Including the Ministry, Dark and Light magic, and a number of other topics.

Harry smiled, and the two lightly exchanged pleasantries for a few more moments before the headmaster eventually got down to business.

Leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers, Albus stated, "But enough of such talk for now, my dear boy. What I really wanted to discuss was the continuation of your lessons from last year. However, I would be your teacher."

Harry looked at him with interest. "Occlumency, Albus?" the sixth-year questioned with a hint of surprise. "I'm already quite skilled at it." He paused, thinking it over.

Even with his returned memories and the additional effort he had put forth during the summer, it was still a good idea to continue building his shields. For one, they helped control his visions, not to mention his latent Empathy. Both of which seemed to be growing more powerful as time progressed. Nevertheless, it was still not nearly as strong as it had been in his previous life. And while it was possible to master Occlumency, there would still always be room for improvement.

"But I suppose the extra practice wouldn't hurt," Harry finally allowed.

The headmaster chuckled. "Yes, you are quite skilled," he inserted knowingly, remembering that he had in fact checked Harry's shields several times before and that he had yet to break through them. "While the practice wouldn't hurt, what I truly what to work on was Legilimency."

The younger wizard thought for moment before nodding. He really did need to improve on his Legilimency as it was a skill that he had only begun to work on before his death. While he was skilled enough to pass messages using it, much the way he communicated with Dominic during class, he still had problems breaking through others' mental shields.

"However," the professor interrupted Harry's thoughts, "that was not all I wished you to practice. I had hoped to cover a few other subjects as well. Dueling, in particular."

Harry blinked. "Dueling?"

Today seemed to be his day to be surprised, but already the wheels in his head were turning. Albus Dumbledore was one of the best duelers in the world, the only one Tom Riddle had ever feared. Dueling and learning from him would be an enormous help, something Harry considered as he studied the other man across the desk. Still, there was the downside of his increased magical knowledge arousing suspicions, but perhaps he could simply put that to his summer studies. And was not like taking Legilimency lessons from Albus wouldn't include the same risk.

"Dueling?" Harry repeated after a moment. "Why?"

Albus chuckled. "Yes, dueling. As to your other question, I believe that it is passed time that I teach you this. You have needed such knowledge before and will undoubtedly need it again."

"The prophecy," Harry responded, instantly knowing where Albus was going with this.

The headmaster nodded and unexpectedly rose from behind his desk, moving to stand in front of Harry. "While it must be you to defeat Tom, it doesn't say that you must do it alone." He bent slightly and placed both of his hands on the teenager's shoulders. "I will help you with this, Harry. I will stand by your side to the end and beyond." His voice was full of emotion. "What do you say, my dear boy?"

Harry swallowed past the forming lump in his throat, leaning into Dumbledore's pseudo-embrace. "I… I would very much like that."

* * *

**_Hogwarts, The Defense Professor's Office: September 7th, 1996_**

'_Nox Noctis_ _Eludere_,' the vampire thought, and a wave of darkness shot out of his wand, barely missing Harry as he dove out of the way.

'That was a close one,' the young man reflected, ducking behind a crate, one of the many obstacles they had erected in the training room. A bead of sweat slid down his face, but he completely ignored it. 'I need to be a bit faster; I just can't compete with vampire reflexes.' His chest heaved as he breathed heavily, already exhausted from his extended duel with Dom.

'_Tempus Socius_.' He pointed his wand at his chest and felt the tingle of magic spread through his body.

The teenager turned his gaze to the room, observing the changes the spell had done to his perception, as well as his body. Time passed differently for him now, allowing him to react faster and basically making him appear as a blur to anyone watching. Not only that, but it made everything else seem much slower. This was evidenced by the second hand on Dom's wall clock, which now seemed to take three or four seconds to move a tick instead of just one. The effect was a bit nauseating, especially considering the fact that he had only just learned the spell.

'Not bad for a first try,' he mused internally, even as he quieted his breathing. Inching around the crate, Harry reached out with his magical senses. 'But imagine what it will be like once I have it down. It's supposed to effect time even more when mastered.'

Ducking around the crate, Harry squatted closer to the ground and rushed to another obstacle, this time a boulder. He instantly realized that the move was not a good one as a tingle of warning shot down his spine. He glanced up at the speeding ray of glistening purple-red light and without hesitating drew the runic symbol for reflection with his free hand. The rune burned midair as the spell hit the shield, which was just inches in front of his face, before bouncing back to its source.

A sudden upwelling of consternation followed by relief in Harry's mind showed him that the vampire had managed to dodge the reflection.

Growling slightly at his own distraction, the young wizard followed up with three quick spells in rapid succession, one courtesy of his lovely Luna. '_Haiku __Bakari_. _Rictusempra_. _Impedimenta_.'

But to his dismay, the Defense professor dodged the first and absorbed the other two in a strong shield of his own. He then proceeded to send back a few spells.

With his increased reflexes, Harry managed to cast another runic shield that reflected the Tripping jinx, the Concussion hex, and the Banishing spell. However, those three with the combined strength of the last spell, an Arrow of Light, was too much. It overloaded. But thankfully, the shield managed to absorb the magical arrow, so it dissipated instead of hitting him in the chest like it would have otherwise.

Of course, it was at the very moment that the shield dissolved that Dom decided to use a runic spell of his own, casting a summon for the other wizard's glasses. Nevertheless, much to the vampire's chagrin, the glasses remain on Harry's face. The teenager had apparently thought of such an occurrence before and had taken steps to make sure they would firmly remain on his nose.

'Nice try, old man,' he allowed playfully, 'but I've already thought of it, and they're unbreakable, too. If you have enough gall to try that one.'

He quickly cast an iceball at the vampire, who was about to try another hex, in order to distract him. It did nicely as the ice clipped him in the shoulder, breaking into chunks of densely packed and rather hard snow and making the professor wince.

'Alright,' the reborn Slytherin thought suddenly, sweat once more beading down his face. 'If he wants to play it that way, time to get dirty. _Serpensortia_.'

The effect was instantaneous. And it was in that moment, Harry's increased skill and power became apparent as not one but eleven deadly serpents appeared.

**_"_**_**Please help me, my friends,"**_ he hissed to them. _**"Attack that fool for me, just don't kill him."**_ He smirked faintly then. _**"I might have use for him later on."**_

Dom immediately paled at the sight of the snakes, all of which were heading for him. Harry would willingly bet every Galleon he had in Gringotts that exactly one thought was going through the vampire's head: 'Bugger.'

Yet, the man made a nice recovery and took several rapid steps backwards. His gaze flicked from Harry, who was panting heavily, to the snakes and back. He thought rapidly for a few seconds, the serpents moving ever closer, before he suddenly cast a line of fire on the floor in front of him. The four-foot-high, blue-white flames stopped the snakes' forward progress, and the professor completed the spell by encircling the flames around them, completely negating the animals as a threat.

Harry, taking advantage of the situation, cast a quick _Abrogarma_. Dominic though had recovered by then and sent an advanced Disarming charm of his own. Unfortunately for the both of them, the spells hit mid-way between their destinations and went streaming back to their casters.

Both their wands went flying. The teenager instantly moved towards where his had landed, wandlessly summoning his, which actually moved towards him. However, it was at that moment that the vampire, who Harry had thought to have also gone for his wand, chose to do something completely unexpected.

Dom tackled him to the ground, partially knocking the air out of him, and his wand went soaring overhead. The two wrestled for a moment, Harry actually managing to cast a wandless Impediment jinx, which held for all of a second, and two Stunners that the professor dodged. But the vampire's superior strength gave him the upper hand and allowed him to effectively pin the younger man.

With both of his wrists magically bound and with Dom sitting on his legs, Harry gave up his struggles. "Alright, I surrender." He exhaled slowly, pushing at the vampire with his knees. "Now, get off me. You're heavier than you look."

Dominic laughed and released the bounds with a wave of his hand. Smiling, he gave the other a helping hand up before summoning both of their wands and handing Harry's back.

"Thanks," the reborn Slytherin commented as he staggered over to the near wall and sat down on a large, red pillow he had conjured earlier in the duel. He turned and partially leaned his forehead against the cool stone of the wall.

Smirking, the Defense professor walked over to him, conjuring a bottle of water for each of them. "Tired, much?"

"Very," was the breathless response as the teenager accepted his drink. "Thank you."

"Me, too. Though it seems not as much as you," Dom commented idly, summoning another one of the pillows the cheeky blighter had ambushed him with. "Interesting duel, wasn't it? The runic magic was a nice touch. I had forgotten that Salazar taught Runes at Hogwarts." The vampire grinned and sank to the deep green pillow next to Harry. "So how are **things** going along?"

The teenager laughed heartily. "Wonderful," he answered airily and waved his hand. At Dom's upraised eyebrow, he carried on, "Well, I think that Minerva and Severus are both starting to remember. It's probably only dreams right now, but their memories are still coming back. If the blank stares and odd behavior are anything to go by."

"So they're reacting to you then?" the teacher asked with interest, attempting to flick a loose piece of hair out his eyes. Harry had earlier used a Hair Growing charm to distract him, so his normally well-groomed locks were all over the place. He would have to fix the problem before anyone else saw him.

"Not just me. They've done the same around both Luna and Ginny. I'm not sure about Hermione and Draco though," the younger wizard answered after a moment, taking another drink of water.

The vampire nodded in understanding but grimaced at the mention of the redhead, who didn't seem to like him very much. "Overall though, I think it is having a greater effect on Severus." Dominic whispered conspiratorially, "Filius told me at dinner last night that he startled his students so much during the joint Hufflepuff-Slytherin fourth-year lesson that they actually asked Madam Pomfrey to check on him."

"I can imagine how much he appreciated that." Harry snorted at thought.

Dom snickered. "The funny part is that Severus actually allowed the nurse to do a check-up; he thought something was wrong, too."

The pair dissolved into sniggers, both imagining the normally dour Potions master in the over-bearing nurse's clutches.

"In all seriousness, though," Harry inserted after a minute, "I can't help but feel bad for the man. I remembered how confused I was."

The vampire shrugged. "True. But then, it will all be over in a week. So if he holds out until then, everything will be fine."

Harry nodded. "I believe that Severus is made of sterner stuff…" At Dom's snort, he rolled his eyes but went on blithely, "Than we given him credit for, so I think he'll be just fine."

Silvery eyes gazed at the reborn Salazar for a second. "So do I," he put in, laying a hand the other man's shoulder and patting it. "And what of the headmaster?" the vampire asked after a few heartbeats.

Harry sighed and rubbed a temple with his free hand. "Albus… well, things are still improving. He wants to teach me dueling and work on my Legilimency."

A startled expression crossed the Defense professor's face. "Are your shields strong enough to keep him from discovering our plans?" he queried with bated breath.

"Yes," Harry answered simply. "Yes, they are. Fawkes and I've been working on them." His eyes flickered to the vampire sitting beside him. "I'll be fine; our secret is safe with me. Don't worry."

The teacher shrugged but didn't answer. 'That is a hard thing for me to do, my friend.' He shuddered faintly, thinking of all the things that could possibly go wrong with their entire plan and causing Harry to look at him in surprise. 'A hard thing to do indeed.'

* * *

**_Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, The Kitchen: The Same Day (Late Evening)_**

The kitchen at the Headquarters of the Order was currently not a very safe place to be. While it and the rest of the house were still under the _Fidelius_ charm, it was not Death Eaters that one braving the room had to worry about. No, it was a far worse thing indeed. A thing which could instill fear in the hearts of countless men, send children scurrying to their beds, and actually make Mad-Eye Moody take pause.

It was an infuriated Molly Weasley.

The currently fuming redhead in question was aggressively chopping the vegetables for lunch, mumbling under her breath about unappreciative Order members. Occasionally, she sent angry glares at the closed door, as if daring someone to open it, like they would even try in her current state. After mangling a perfect innocent potato, Molly paused in her actions, eyeing it a second and still muttering.

"I can't believe the nerve of that man," she snarled to herself as she reached for an onion and roughly diced it. "'_Oh, don't worry about it, Molly_,'" she mimicked fiercely. "'_I don't need help with the Arithmancy for the new spells. I'm sure it's way beyond your level anyway._'" She fisted both of her hands around the knife, fighting the urge to stab something.

'Beyond my level, is it?' she thought rhetorically, now slamming a pan onto the table. 'I'll have him know that I made Outstanding on **both** my OWL and my NEWT in Arithmancy. By Rowena, I actually worked as an Arithmancer for the Ministry after I graduated. The only reason I quit was because Bill and then Charlie were born.'

"But that chauvinistic git," she resumed her angry mumblings, "insinuates that I'm unable… that I'm not capable of doing such simple spellwork. Argh." She angry threw her hands up into the air.

Undoubtedly, several other things were about to go flying, when an unexpected owl arrived. Distracted from her righteous indignation, Molly retrieved the letter, absentmindedly offering the bird some water from a dish. She quickly scanned over it, eyes narrowing the further down she went. Just as she reached the end, her fist suddenly bunched and balled up the parchment.

First, that little bugger Diggle implied that cooking was all she is good for and now this! Were things truly so bad with Ron that a teacher, the new Defense professor no less, would actually summon his parents for a conference after only the first week of school!

Belatedly, Molly sank into an empty chair at the table. The owl, which was obviously waiting for a response, hopped out of the way.

'I had thought things with Ronnie were improving,' she thought dejectedly. 'He had seemed so much better the last few days before school. He had actually started smiling and even laughed at one of the twins' pranks.' She placed her head in her hands.

"How could things have deteriorated so quickly?" she asked to no one in particular and sniffled.

The owl hooted, forcefully reminding the woman that she still needed to compose a response. And sighing, Molly lifted her head and conjured a quill and parchment with her wand. After a moment, she paused in her writing and scanned the original letter once more.

'He wants to meet on Friday; I'm sure Arthur can use his lunch break then to go up to the school with me.' She shook her vivid, red head and fought the urge to sigh. 'We're just going to have to see how bad the situation really is and go have a talk with this Professor Boyd.'

* * *

_Nox Noctis__ Eludere_: Darkness Wave. Non-verbal. Casts darkness on an opponent, while simultaneously hitting them with a wave of power.

_Nox Noctis_: Darkness. Non-verbal. Surrounds the victim and prevents light from reaching them. It has a specific anti-jinx, _Expromo Luciferum_, and cannot be countered with _Lumos_.

_Tempus Socius_: Time's Ally. Non-verbal. Temporal manipulation that allows a person to move faster. All others will appear to be moving at a snail's pace.

_Luciferum Sagitto_: Arrow of Light. Non-verbal. Shoots an arrow of pure energy at the target. An exceptionally powerful spell, which can break through almost any shield, both physical and magical.

_Abrogarma_: Advanced Disarming charm. Verbal and non-verbal. Is resistant to many shields and is harder to block than _Expelliarmus_.

AN: Does anyone know where J.K. got the names for the runes mentioned in canon? I would actually like to name some of the spells, but I need to know if they are actually based on something first.

Additionally, I have found a post-HBP story that I actually like! Amazing! It is titled Time to Spare and is by _EmySabath_. Check it out if you have the time.

**Things to think about**: Bellatrix's er… **situation** will have a major impact on the rest of the series. Also, Bella's sudden change of heart happened in Hogsmeade, around the time someone else changed long held views. Harry's reaction to Albus has a specific reason and not the one you'd think. There is a reason behind Molly's ties to Arithmancy.

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

Special thanks to Our Catholic Faith (online) for the Latin translation.

_Chapter __Twenty-Two: Shards of Memory_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**06/21/08**


	23. Shards of Memory

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**_"_**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Shards of Memory**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, The Great Hall: September 13th, 1996_**

It was going to be a great day.

And Harry just couldn't help but smile as he absentmindedly buttered his toast. He hummed to himself as he took a bite, thinking about what was to come. They were bringing back the others today.

Oh, they weren't returning memories to everyone from the past. No, such a thing would be far more harmful than helpful. For one, they were only bringing back those that would be the most useful. No offense to Faolan as he was an upstanding fellow, but as he was also a werewolf, he had not been allowed in the lesser magical schools as a child nor had he been apprenticed. So his understanding of magic was limited to what his mother had taught him and what he had picked up on his own. Further, Faolan hadn't had a very pleasant existence, even considering his long time friendship with the Slytherins. He had been ostracized and abused by other wizards, ridiculed for first his status as a werewolf and then by his mother's overprotective tendencies. All told, the return of his past would not be a benefit, and it would only bring back painful memories.

As for the Hufflepuff children, while they were a nice sort also, they weren't exactly known for their brains or their magical prowess. Perhaps they would be brought in later on, but for now the list was limited to knowledgeable help.

Additionally, quite a number of their old associates had changed in the last millennia and had questionable loyalties or motives. It wasn't that they were necessarily bad; they were just unknown factors. To this, it was wiser to err on the side of paranoia, only informing those they could absolutely trust. Basically, the other Founders, minus Godric obviously. They would also include Siobhan's adopted mother along with Rowena's sister and children, Helga's favorite nephew, and perhaps Tristan later on. However, both Hogwarts and Fawkes had championed adding another to the immediate list. After a great deal of discussion, Harry and Luna had finally acquiesced. Besides, he would be a great help.

The reborn Slytherin came out of his reverie and grinned as he thought about their plan. While it was fraught with pitfalls, it was the only way to get everyone in one room at the same time. The fact that it involved quite a bit of subterfuge did not bother him in the slightest.

'Besides,' he thought, 'there are far more important things to worry about.' He shivered with anticipation. 'It is everything we planned for, everything we hoped for, and it is scheduled to start in roughly,' Harry glanced at his watch before adding, 'five hours.' His grin widened. Suddenly, he laughed, causing Hermione to look at him peculiarly from over her toast.

"Are you alright, Harry?" she asked, setting her food aside and picking up the _Daily Prophet_.

"Oh… er… yes, just thinking," he replied and glanced at her paper.

"Alright," she turned the page, scanning an article. "Strange," she commented more to herself than to him, "the _Prophet_ is reporting quite a number of disappearances but no outright deaths."

"Really?" he asked and looked up from his juice.

The Prefect nodded emphatically. "People are just vanishing, but they aren't finding any bodies. The Dark Mark was hovering over houses, but no one was inside."

"That is strange," Ginny stated, joining in the conversation. Her eyes darted around the table, noticing that no one else was showing any interest. She went on, "You know what else is strange?"

"No," Harry replied, "what?"

The redhead leaned forward and whispered hurriedly, "McGonagall and Snape. Have you noticed the way they've been acting? It's like they're possessed or something."

Hermione nodded firmly. "Yes, they stare at us all the time. In class, Professor McGonagall only seems to do it to Harry and me though." She inclined her head toward the Head Table. "They're doing it even now."

The other two glanced at the teachers, and true enough, Minerva and Severus were looking straight back at their students. Instantly, their eyes darted away, but the reborn Slytherin knew that they would both start again as soon as their students looked away.

Beside him, the redhead shivered. He followed her line of vision to Dominic.

"What is it?" Harry asked with a hint of nervousness.

"The new Defense professor. I don't trust him, not that I really trusted any of our Defense teachers," she murmured in a heated tone, eyes flickering back and forth between her friends. "He keeps looking at us, too. There's something odd about him. Untrustworthy." She growled faintly. "It's like he's hiding something."

"Ginny?" Hermione set down her paper. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about that fact that he is always watching us," the redhead inserted fiercely, her voice dropping in volume when Parvati unexpectedly glanced over. "Especially Harry," she added. "I think he's up to something, plotting with You-Know-Who perhaps."

The Prefect shook her head. "No, he's not. He was approved by the Sorting Hat, remember? I don't believe he could hide something like that." However, she didn't seem entirely convinced by her own statement.

"I'm not sure. Death Eaters have gotten in before." Ginny frowned, her eyes narrowing into slits. "Besides, he still watches Harry all the time. Even now, he's looking right at us."

Sure enough, Dom was. And he offered the two female Gryffindors a jaunty smile when they turned to look at him. Hermione blushed when he winked. The redhead simply glared.

"I told you so," Ginny went on before Hermione could reply.

In turn, the brunette bit her lip nervously.

Harry filtered out the rest of the conversation, knowing exactly where it was going. Luna had told him earlier of Ginny's suspicions about the vampire. Apparently, Dominic reminded her of another tall, dark, and handsome wizard she had once known.

It was the thought of the Dark Lord that instantly drew Harry's attention back to the newspaper article Hermione had mentioned earlier. 'Disappearances? Why would he be abducting people instead of killing them?' the teenager mused internally. 'What is Tom planning?'

He turned the problem over in his head. There were several possibilities, and Harry shuddered just thinking about them. Thankfully, his mind soon drifted back to his earlier thoughts. He trembled and fidgeted with anxiety. Harry exhaled and tried to control his nervousness.

This was it. Today was the day. There was no turning back. The memories would be returned, truth would be revealed, and perceptions would be shattered.

It would be a great day indeed.

* * *

**_Hogwarts, The Dungeons: The Same Day_**

Draco Malfoy exited the entrance to the Slytherin dorms, walking away with his head bowed in thought. However, instead of going upstairs toward the Great Hall for breakfast, he headed deeper into the dungeons. The blond scuffed his feet along the stone corridors, one hand idly toying with the ash wand in his pocket.

Lately, his thoughts had been troubled. He had found himself confused, confounded. He had a role to play, and he couldn't afford to be caught unawares. He was the heir of two Death Eaters, one unwilling, the other tricked into following. But he didn't agree with the Dark Lord's doctrines, not really. Regardless, he truly didn't agree with the Ministry either. He didn't think that Muggleborns were worth less than pure-bloods; he didn't think the Dark was evil. But what he did believe was that they were headed for disaster, one that was probably the result of their own making.

And he knew that there was little to nothing he could do about it. It was far too large a task for one person to handle. Not even the great Dumbledore had been able to make much of a difference. There was little hope that he, Draco Malfoy, Slytherin and all-around git extraordinaire, could do anything.

So he did what he could, trying to save the other Slytherins from the mistakes of their parents. While keeping their masks firmly in place so that the Dark Lord would never know until it was too late. They were all alone, the Slytherins. The other Houses had disliked them from day one, not trusting them for even a moment, not giving them a chance. They had maintained their air of superiority and disdain because it hid what was going on underneath. It hid the real them so that they would only appear carbon-copies of their parents. It hid them for what they truly were. Scared children who had run out of options.

Even Dumbledore and Severus, try as they might to save them, could only do so much. The headmaster's hands were tied by his position in the school and in the government. Severus' by the bad choices he had made as a young man.

All they had was each other. If one gave away the game it would be to the doom of the entire House. And one bossy, bushy-haired witch was endangering them all.

She was a Muggleborn… **Mudblood** a little vicious voice corrected in his mind, one that sounded like his father. She probably loved books more than her own parents, and for some inexplicable reason, Draco found himself drawn to her. It had always been there, just under the surface, from the moment he had met her. And he had tried to cover it, keep her away. He had insulted her, called her horrible names, harassed her. Anything to keep her from noticing. But somehow she had, and she would be the death of them all.

'She's a danger to us, to me,' he thought quickly, 'but I don't know--'

His thoughts ran to a grounding halt as he crashed into a fleshy wall and landed in a heap on the floor. Silently berating himself for his lack of attention, a thing that could easily get him killed, he glanced up and heaved a relieved sigh as he saw that it only was Professor Boyd. The man was an unknown factor but hopefully, especially with what he had said in his class, an ally.

With a smile, the teacher offered his student a helping hand up. "My apologies."

"Oh, it's my fault, Professor," Draco assured him. Knowing it wasn't yet time to approach the man, he went on, "Forgive me, but I must be going."

He took a step back, watching as the professor nodded and moved down the corridor. The Prefect finally continued on his way. However, he stopped only two steps later. Shivering from the chills running down his spine, Draco turned only to get a burst of red light directly in the face.

The last thing Draco saw before the Stunner hit was the bright, purple light of the following Invisibility charm, and then, he knew no more.

* * *

**_Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, The Library: The Same Day_**

Bill rubbed his shoulders as he shifted in his chair, flipping another page from the book in front of him. He scowled at the text, squinting and wishing for the thousandth time that he had gotten new glasses like Hermione had suggested. He sighed and leaned back in his chair.

It was his day off, and what was he doing?

Researching… still researching. It was bad enough that he had to do it without any real idea what he was looking for. But he also had to do it without the delightful help and distraction that was Hermione. That girl… she was just so different.

Different from what he was used to. Different from what he was usually attracted to. At Hogwarts, he had been the nerdy one, the Prefect and Head Boy, so he hadn't really dated. And when he had, it wasn't girls who were more bookish than him simply because he was the most scholarly person in the entire school. There was a reason the Hat had tried to make him a Ravenclaw, after all, though he was still trying to figure out why it had almost forced him into Hufflepuff.

After Hogwarts, he had for lack of a better phrase become cool. And he had dated women who reflected that. He had gone out with people like Fleur, who was a nice person sure enough and a great friend. Nevertheless, she was much better suited to Charlie, and the two were quite happy together. But Bill couldn't help but feel a little left out. He had fancied Fleur and so had Charlie, and Charlie was his best friend and brother. Bill had done the honorable thing, the Gryffindor thing, and had stepped back. Now, the two were together and talking marriage. Yet, he was still left out.

Then, Hermione had come along and wasn't she a surprise! She was bossy and pushy and bookish and knowledgeable and shy and devoted and loyal and steadfast and so different from anyone he had ever pursued. She was so much like him that it was scary at times. They both loved books, reading all the time and practically forcing their friends to pry them out of their hands. They both loved to research. They could just sit quietly, doing exactly that, and when one made a discovery, it was like the other instantly knew and understood. It was like they were on the same wavelength.

But they were so different, too. He was laid back, easy-going, calm. She was bossy, always knowing what was best for everyone, always stressed out. They were polar opposites. They were so much alike and yet so different.

And that was why Bill knew they were perfect for each other.

There was a sudden burst of fire midair, and the redhead flew out of his chair, reaching for his wand, only to realize it was just Fawkes. He sighed with relief and was about to put his wand away when the bird swooped in and snatched it in his talons. The phoenix glided through the air and landed on a nearby table, looking at the wizard with suspicion.

With a sigh, Bill approached the bird, knowing that Dumbledore was probably summoning him for something. "I'm sorry, Fawkes. I didn't mean to, but you startled me," the redhead tried appeasingly, reaching for his wand.

However, the phoenix snapped at his fingers and glared at him with furious green and gold eyes.

"Well, I am sure you are," Fawkes commented.

Bill stopped short, gapping.

"Oh yes, I can talk, Mr. Weasley, but that is beside the point." He smirked then. "Anyway, we have somewhere to be." He ruffled his feathers, preparing for flight.

The redhead gaped again. "What do you mean by '_have somewhere_--'" he started to ask but was halted when the phoenix landed on his shoulder.

Fawkes smirked again, and the two disappeared in a burst of fire.

* * *

**_Hogwarts, The Third Floor: The Same Day_**

"Where did you say we were going again, Harry?" Hermione asked as she trailed behind Luna and him, just in front of Neville and Ginny.

Unnoticed by the Prefect, the couple exchanged a glance before dropping back to walk beside the others. "It's a secret," he answered with a comical scrunch of his nose. "A secret place. I bet you ten Galleons even Gred and Forge don't know of it. It certainly wasn't on the map," he stated, indicating the parchment in Luna's hands, which she was using to supposedly check for Filch. But it wasn't like she needed it, not with her connection to Hogwarts, not that the others knew that.

"A secret, huh?" Hermione questioned. She looked at him appraisingly, finally speaking again. "You've been acting rather odd lately, Harry. So very unlike yourself."

Ginny smiled and quipped, "True. He's not been nearly broody enough." She nudged him with her elbow. Never noticing as Luna, who was on her other side, discreetly lifted the redhead's wand from her pocket.

"Oh, I bet I know why," Neville joined in.

Harry mock-glared, and a faint but a noticeable hint of red touched his cheeks.

"Really?" Luna inquired pensively, humming to herself. "Why?"

Neville chuckled. "You," he answered simply enough, also nudging Harry with his elbow. "More specifically, those lovely dreams he's been having about you. Apparently, if his moans are anything to go by, they're quite good."

Luna beamed at her boyfriend. "Good, that means I'm not the only one having carnal fantasies," she inserted without missing a beat.

Hermione and Ginny exchanged a shocked look before dissolving in giggles, Neville soon joining them. Harry ducked his head, his cheeks burning. Nevertheless, using his embarrassment as an opportunity, he quickly snagged Hermione's wand. His eye caught his girlfriend's, and her grin widened knowingly.

After a moment, the laughter ended. Harry redirected the banter to another topic, leaving both their destination and his dreams. A discreet wink later, and Luna drifted back to make a move for Neville's wand, too. The conversation continued around her, thankfully they had moved onto a different subject. However, the blonde never had the opportunity to complete her task as they soon reached the portrait of La Muerte.

The woman with the heart-shaped face smiled and winked, opening without a password. Harry led the group inside, his eyes scanning the room and instantly landing on the blond figure lying on a pile of pillows on the floor.

Good. Everything was going to plan.

The others stopped short, staring at the figure. Neville blinked. Hermione ran forward. Ginny whirled to face him.

"Harry, tell me you didn't," the redhead commanded as she watched the Prefect dash to the other side of the room, kneeling beside the blond. "Tell me, you didn't kidnap Draco Malfoy."

Hermione started reaching for her wand, but she stopped when Luna cast the _Ennervate_ for her. Instantly, grey eyes snapped open, staring into brown. A flash of some nameless emotion passed between them before the witch looked away. She quickly rose to her feet and watched as he sat up.

"We didn't kidnap Draco, Ginny," Luna finally replied with a fair amount of annoyance.

"It'd be okay if you did though," Neville murmured himself. "I wouldn't blame you in the slightest." He was taking this situation the best out of all of them, meeting everything with an air of calm. Shaking his head, he turned back to the discussion at hand.

Hermione, apparently not having heard Neville, looked at Luna and Harry with complete disbelief. "Really?"

"They didn't," the Slytherin Prefect assured her absentmindedly as he stood. He swayed, the female Gryffindor steadying him. "Actually, it was that bloody Defense teacher." He stepped away from Hermione with an embarrassed shake of his head.

"But why?" Neville questioned, adding in his three Knuts worth. "Why would the professor do that? Hasn't tried to off us yet. He seems a decent enough bloke." Silently, he felt that the professor would be an even better person if he had disposed of Draco instead of just kidnapped him.

"Hasn't tried to off us yet?" Draco repeated incredulously. "He tried to off me!" He waved his hands through the air.

Neville glared at him and was about to say something rather unkind when he was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Fawkes and Bill Weasley.

"Bill!" Hermione and Ginny exclaimed together. The older girl dashed to his side.

"What's going on?" the younger Weasley demanded as she ran to her brother, following in Hermione's wake.

Neville took several steps forward, craning his neck to see. Clearly, he was more interested in Bill's well-being than he had been for Draco.

"Yes, what **is** going on, Harry?" Hermione asked and reached for her boyfriend. "You've kidnapped Draco and now Bill." She glared at him fiercely, pointing an accusing finger. "You've been acting strange since the summer. At first, I thought it was because of Padfoot, but now I'm not so sure. You've started studying; you don't talk about Quidditch all the time. And you actually like Potions now." Her eyes widened suddenly as if something had dawned on her. "Oh, no… you're not Harry at all." She stepped back hurriedly, dragging Bill with her. "It's Polyjuice again!"

The others looked shell-shocked. Ginny trembled and reached for her wand, determined that she would not be a weakling again. But much to her shock, she discovered that it was gone. Belatedly, Hermione noticed the exact same situation with her wand. Neville, on the other hand, brought his out and stepped in front of the girls. Yet, before he could do anything else, Fawkes swoop in and snatched it in much the same way he had done to Bill. Draco didn't even bother to go for his, already knowing that it was gone.

There was a loud bang, and their attention instantly rocketed back to Harry. At their shocked expressions, he sighed heavily and tried to placate them.

"I assure you, I am who I appear to be."

The others looked thoroughly unconvinced.

"Here, I'll prove it to you." He sobered and put his wand away. "I am Harry James Potter. I recently lost the only parent I have ever known, Sirius Black, who was actually innocent and who I loved more than anything. I was his only heir, and he actually wanted to adopt me, but he never had the chance and never will," he finished, breathing heavily and shaking.

Complete silence filled the air.

"So maybe it's not Polyjuice," Bill allowed after a moment and squeezed Hermione's hand.

"It's Professor Boyd then!" Ginny exclaimed, jumping from the next obvious choice, Luna, and directly to the disliked teacher.

The blonde reprimanded her, "Oh, he's not Polyjuiced either. And he's not a Death Eater," she added, giving the redhead an appraising glance. The Ravenclaw smiled dreamily and played with a loose strand of her hair. "He is perfectly wonderful and quite the snazzy dresser. Oh, and a fantastic conversationalist. Just the other day we were talking about the difference between crumpled-horn--"

The Slytherin Prefect snorted and turned to Harry, who he thought was at least sane. "And this so-called wonderful man abducted me, Potter!" Draco spat, looking quite angry. "He hit me in the face with a bloody Stunner; do you have any idea how much that stings?"

Fawkes laughed. "Well, he's not really a man, mind you. Vampire would be a more accurate description," he chirped and ruffled his feathers. He flew through the air, once more using Bill as a perch.

Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say. Or maybe they were just surprised that phoenixes really could talk. And everyone froze. There was the sound of a several muffled gasps, and Hermione's mouth actually dropped open. She stuttered, causing her to cough and forcing a bemused Bill to slap her on the back.

Harry couldn't help but snort. "Oh, it's not really that bad. You make it seem as though he's a monster or something."

"But he **is** a monster, Harry," Ginny retorted nervously, her fingers itching for her wand.

Hermione nodded her agreement. Draco swallowed hard but made no move to agree. Bill blinked. Neville simply watched, only half paying attention. For some strange reason, his eyes kept being drawn to the portrait of an old sorcerer who was watching the exchange with interest from the far wall. The Gryffindor's face scrunched in a look of extreme concentration. There was something so familiar about that man.

Hermione spoke softly. "Vampires drink blood, human blood. They feed on humans, Harry." Her face was like an open book, one which was filled with nervousness and fear. "They feed on people. They eat people, Harry. Kill them!"

"Yeah, Potter," Draco added in, waving his hand, "he's probably going to use us for a meal or… a sacrifice." His grey eyes were flickering around, obviously looking for escape.

The sole Ravenclaw sighed and exchanged a glance with her boyfriend "No, they don't. And no, he won't. Vampires don't kill anyone, and they only feed on humans when it's freely given," Luna replied. Noticing Harry's blank expression turn slightly amused, the witch continued, "You know, love nibbles."

Hermione actually blushed at the comment as did Draco. Neville's eyebrow quirked before he returned his attention to the portrait. Bill had to stifle a laugh. However, Luna ignored it all, looking at her reactionless year-mate sadly.

"Okay, so maybe he won't feed on us, but you have to admit," Bill said after a moment in his typical calm fashion, "it is still a bit suspicious that he led us all here." He rubbed his temples, obviously trying to alleviate a building headache.

The reborn Salazar was about to reply, but Ginny beat him to it.

"And how do we know that he won't?" she insisted, her deep brown eyes blazing and hands gesturing for emphasis. "He could be lying; he's a Dark creature, after all."

From the side, the phoenix quietly surveyed her defiant expression, noticing a strange emotion flickering on her face. "Honestly," Fawkes tsked, finally chiming in from his perch on Bill's shoulder, "Tom Riddle is a man, and you all see how well that turned out. So it is not a very good basis to go on." He tilted his head, seeing that both of his allies had noticed it as well.

"And it's not like he's a ravenous lethifold or a man-eating murktrap that will attack you at any moment. He's still a person." Luna finished. She shook her head and stared at them with wide but sad eyes. Disappointment was etched onto her features, her normally dreamy expression forgotten.

"No, he's not; he's monster! Don't let him convince you otherwise. He's just using you!" the youngest Weasley screamed at her, face red. "Remember what he said; remember how he's a follower of the Dark. They're evil, I tell you. All of them are evil."

The others stared at her with shock, even Bill.

"Ginny," he began, "I know you had a bad experience before, but maybe we should listen--"

"No," his sister cut him off. "No, Bill. Not again. I listened once before, and you know how that turned out. I won't do it again." She sighed, moving in front of her brother. "Just no. I'm sorry," she murmured and reached for him.

Luna whispered to the female redhead. "I never thought that you would agree with Dolores Umbridge, Ginny. I thought you were better than that."

The girl stiffened instantaneously and whirled around. "But… he's Dark and so was Tom… and he used to say the same kind of things about magic not being good or evil," she muttered to herself. Realizing what she had let slip, her head snapped up. "I mean… we're always taught… the Ministry--"

Harry interrupted, "Right, the **Ministry**. They don't like vampires, so they're automatically bad in the eyes of the all-knowing government," he added sarcastically, moving toward the redhead. "You know how they are, Gin. They warp the truth about people and add in their own lies. They twist things, muddy the waters so that it is impossible to see anything. Remember how they lied about me?" He saw her faint nod and continued, "They're the same with everything else. Sure, there are some good people… like your father. Yet, you see how they treat even him, one of their own."

He faced the girl fully and gently took her hand in his. He lowered his head so that he could look her directly in the eyes.

"Dark doesn't mean evil; I know that Tom said that, too, but what he failed to mention is that evil still exists. He doesn't believe in it at all; he only believes in power." He squeezed her fingers tightly before releasing her hand, gazing down into her dazed eyes. "Tom is so evil that no other label really fits. He's not Dark, not Light. Just evil. And you shouldn't instantly think that other people are like that just because they remind you of him." Harry sighed, turning away and going back to Luna. But just as he was about to move away, he added in a whisper, "I'm a lot like him, too, Ginny. Even he acknowledged that. But you didn't automatically think the worst of me."

Luna watched as her boyfriend returned to her side before finally commenting. "He's right, you know."

But somehow, the others still didn't look fully convinced.

Not knowing what else to do she squeezed her willow wand in her hand, magic swirling at the end. "I swear my most solemn oath that to you that vampires are not evil; they're not at all like the Ministry describes. They're decent people," she appended after a beat, "at least Dom is." Seeing their blank expressions, she went on, "I also swear that Dom doesn't want to hurt us."

There was silence for a moment.

"But then, why did he kidnap me?" Draco asked, not showing any of his typical haughty behavior. He ran a shaky hand through his platinum, blond hair.

Harry and Luna's eyes met. He exhaled slowly.

"There is something very important that **we** must show you. However," he stated, holding up a hand to forestall their comments, "we cannot until the others arrive."

Confused expressions magically appeared on their faces.

"Er… what others?" Bill questioned and looked at the door.

It was at that very moment that the portrait swung open. Professor Boyd walked in followed by none other than Arthur and Molly Weasley.

* * *

**_Hogwarts, Minerva's Rooms: The Same Day_**

"What are we going to do, Minerva?" he asked and stopping his pacing to go to her. "I don't think I can do this anymore," he admitted to her. "I keep feeling things… hearing things. I think I'm going mad." He took her hands, squeezing them tightly within his own.

"If you are, Severus, then so am I," she quipped, squeezing back. She sighed and closed her eyes. "I just don't understand it. What is happening to us? I just feel so strange lately… like I'm being drawn, pulled in a direction…" she faltered.

"You never thought you'd go," he finished for her, dark eyes flashing.

She nodded faintly, and the two remained silent for a moment.

"I'm just so confused. So tired of it all," she whispered, eyes suspiciously bright.

"I am as well." He sighed and studied her. Unexpectedly, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers, his nose touching her own. "Minerva--"

"Severus, you know that we can't," she began but froze, head tilting to one side. "Do you feel that?"

"Yes, we have to go… Now!"

And he was at the door, Minerva hot on his heels.

The few students in the corridors between her second floor rooms and the third floor hallway were met with the interesting sight of both the deputy headmistress and the Potions master dashing by. The two ran flat out, following the inexplicable pull to the Sorting Hat's secret room. Once more, the portrait of La Muerte swung open without prompting. The two professors burst inside, wands at the ready, and the scene that greeted them was a surprising one.

Hermione and Bill Weasley were at the back wall, holding hands and standing near both Ginny and Draco Malfoy, of all people. All of them wore expressions of shock, though Bill's was tempered with calm. Further, Fawkes the phoenix was perched on the older redhead's shoulder, wearing a very smug look. Arthur and Molly Weasley were standing in the middle of the room facing Professor Boyd, who appeared to be trying to reason them. Neville Longbottom lingered nearby. Finally, Harry and Luna Lovegood were off to the side, twirling what appeared to be wands that didn't belong to them.

"What--" Minerva began.

She stuttered to a stop as her wand flew out of her hand. It was followed by Severus', though the man fiercely tried to hold on. Both landed in Dominic's open hand, when he nonchalantly reached behind him, not even bothering to turn around.

"Greetings, Professors," Luna inserted with a smile and beckoned them forward.

Severus backed up only to hit the now closed portrait.

"Why don't you come in and have a seat?"

"Yes," Harry chimed in, "we were just talking to Mrs. and Mr. Weasley."

"Just talking?" Snape repeated, striding forward with his robes billowing behind him. He looked incredibly angry. "I do not believe that you were '_just talking_', Mr. Potter." His fingers clenched and balled into fists.

But before he could say anything else, Dom interrupted, "I would not do that, if I were you, Severus. Going for your second wand right now is not a smart thing to do."

The Potions master stopped short, face a mask. He took in the entire situation once more, reevaluating.

"Very well," he allowed. "What do you suggest I do then?"

Harry grinned. "Well, you take a seat, Professor," he said amicably, indicating two chairs, one green and the other blue.

Dark eyes flicked from his student to his fellow teacher, who was smiling pleasantly, and back. Severus growled slightly but graciously took his seat. Minerva did also, sitting stately, her chin held high. Both now wore similar expressions, ones which seemed to say "Now what?"

The vampire chuckled. "Now, we just have one more person to wait for." He exchanged a smile with Fawkes, noticing that the portrait entrance was slowly opening. "And it looks as if she is--"

"What, by Ravenclaw, is going on here?" an angry but calm voice demanded from the door.

And almost everyone spun around in surprise, everyone save those Hogwarts had warned. Harry smirked as his eyes meet Luna's, and as one, they both looked to the newcomer.

In all her infuriated glory with her eyes blazing and her angry wand pointed directly at Dominic, shooting blue and bronze sparks, Sybill Trelawney was an inspiring sight. She slid into the room, her back now at the wall, facing all those gathered. Her gaze flickered about, taking in and analyzing all the possible threats before seeking that of Minerva and then Severus. A silent exchange passed between the two women, but it seemed to only make Trelawney tense even more. She glanced at the students then, and while she was clearly unsure of the goings on, her fierce resolve to protect them was readily evident.

All of this occurred in less than a minute. Nonetheless, through it all, her wand never once drifted from the Defense teacher nor did she let him stray from the edge of her vision. And it in that very moment, the vampire truly understood why this woman was one of Dumbledore's top lieutenants, especially when he considered how well she had managed to hide that little fact.

"I ask again, what is going on here?" she inquired once more, this time addressing the children.

Harry took his cue. "Hello, Professor," he responded pleasantly, making her gaze land on him as he stepped forward. "We're just having a little get-together. I'm glad to see that you have received and accepted our invitation."

Trelawney stared at him, obviously put-off by his pleasant manner, as well as his statements. She raised a confused eyebrow, an expression very reminiscent of Minerva. She wasn't the only one either. The Weasley parents exchanged puzzled looks, while Severus' eyes narrowed.

"Harry," both of the other women stated together.

Exchanging a glance, Minerva carried on alone, "Harry, what are you talking about? Isn't this man attempting to kidnap you?"

Harry's smirk widened. And a giggle escaped his girlfriend's mouth.

"Man… hehe… that is a good one, Professor, but we've already had this discussion." A thoughtful expression crossed her face. "Well, I guess he could technically be called a man."

"What… what do you mean?" Arthur questioned, inching further in front of Hermione and Ginny.

"I am a vampire, of course," Dom finally spoke and joined in the fun.

He glanced around, noting the other adults' still cautious but surprisingly non-hostile looks. They didn't believe half the tripe spread around about vampires, but then, they hadn't been indoctrinated in the Dolores Umbridge School of Thought on Dark Creatures.

'Actually,' the vampire reflected as he studied them, 'they look sort of relieved that I am a vampire. Maybe they were worried I was something worse. Like a Soul Hunter.' Internally, he shuddered in complete revulsion at the thought.

"I believe this is beside the point," Severus cut in, startling everyone. His eyes drifted around the room, and he grimaced as he looked at Harry. "Regardless of your… **status**, Mr. Boyd, you have still detained – if not abducted – several students. So once more we ask you, what exactly is happening here?" his silky voice all but demanded.

Dominic smiled and showed several pointy teeth. "Well, first I must apologize for my methods of getting you here. It was the only real way. To that, now that we are all here," he said and glanced at Harry, receiving a short nod, "there is something very important that we have to show you. Something that can help us save the magical world."

He looked at those gathered, noting their interest, reluctant as it was in some cases. The vampire turned to the reborn Slytherins. And with equally toothy grins, the two of them pulled out their two halves of the amulet.

"And what does this have to do with anything?" Draco began, but he voice was filled with slight awe as he studied the swirling, blue stone.

Hermione nodded her silent agreement.

"Indeed," Severus commented dryly, eyeing the phoenix carving as it unfurled its wings. "It appears as though you are simply showing us an amulet." He cocked an eyebrow, and with only one look, he managed to convey his immense displeasure.

However, before anyone could form a reply to that, the Phoenix Gate took its cue. It started to glow brighter, Phoenix Song filling the air. Magic swirled through the room, a source-less breeze ruffling both hair and clothing. The song and light reached a crescendo, blinding in intensity, and everyone was forced to shield their eyes.

Once the light dimmed, Harry, Luna, Dom, and Fawkes uncovered their faces, glancing around. What they discovered caused the vampire to laugh mirthlessly, the phoenix to snort, and the two students to groan in dismay.

"Bugger," Harry stated, bending over an unconscious Minerva, "I'd forgotten about that part."

* * *

AN: This came out a bit sillier than I had intended, but I am just going to go with it. Oh, I didn't notice this until I had half the chapter written, but with the way I worked out the timeline, all of this is happening on Friday the Thirteenth. Kind of weird, no? It sort of creeps me out actually. Maybe it's an American thing.

**Things to think about**: The people brought to the Sorting Hat's room were, in no particular order: Draco, Hermione, Ginny, Bill, Neville, Arthur, Molly, Sybill, Minerva, and Severus. The people… er… returning, for lack of a better word, are: the Hufflepuffs, the Ravenclaws and their children, Rowena's sister, Siobhan's mother, and a very special surprise person.

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks.

_Chapter __Twenty-Three: The Truth within the Lies_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**06/21/08**


	24. The Truth within the Lies

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**_"_**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Three: The Truth within the Lies**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, The Sorting Hat's Secret Room: September 13th, 1996_**

She awoke slowly, vision blurring and head pounding. The room danced in circles, and she was forced to squeeze her eyes shut lest the nausea overwhelm her. Allowing her stomach to settle, she opened her eyes again. This time everything was slightly less blurry. She could almost make out individual objects, which were now hazy blobs, instead of the sea of color she had originally seen.

She groaned, trying to sit up, only to discover that she was slumped down in what would normally be a comfortable, blue armchair. Raising a shaky hand to her temple, she blinked and tried to refocus. A blob of black approached her, kneeling in front of her seat. Grey eyes blinked rapidly, the blob turning into the faint outline of a person; the black now distinguished itself into robes and hair.

"Minerva," the blob-person asked with a hint of a Celtic accent, respectful of the way her head pounded. When he elicited no response, the male voice tried again, "Rowena?"

And something clicked in her mind. It was all there. She knew exactly who she was, who she had been, and who she was meant to be. Everything was as it should be. And for the first time in her current life, she felt as though she was home, like she was exactly where she was needed.

A soothing presence filled her mind, whispering words of comfort to her and working its magic. Minerva's head stopped pounding. Her stomach completely settled, and everything came into focus. Hogwarts sighed with happiness, her task complete, and settled into a corner of the woman's mind, watching quietly.

Minerva's vision focused. The first thing she noticed was a pair of impossibly bright and large green eyes gazing up at her from near her knees.

"Salazar?"

The lips, which went with the eyes, smiled. "Of course, who else did you expect? Tom Riddle?"

Like a shot, Minerva was out of her chair, nearly sending Harry crashing to the floor before she caught him. She pulled him into a fierce hug, squeezing most of the air out of his lungs. Belatedly, a pair of arms came around her and hugged back.

The tears came freely then. "I've missed you so much, my brother," she sniffled into his shoulder, belatedly noticing that he wasn't as tall as he once was but that he soon would be again. "You were dead," she stated between sobs. "You were dead. And Godric tried to tell us that you had left… run away. But I knew better. I knew that you'd never leave us, not willingly."

They fell silent then. No words were needed. They just stood with complete quiet, still embracing and reveling in their reunion. Minutes passed, but they remained still. With the clearing of a throat, Minerva jumped and whirled around. She had entirely forgotten about the others, though Harry had not. He simply stepped back and walked over to Luna and Dominic. He nodded to Fawkes, who was perched on the vampire's shoulder.

However, Minerva didn't even notice. She was too busy staring at Severus, who was now standing mere inches from her.

"Quinn?"

He gave a slight nod, apparently unable to do much more. The two inched closer, now barely touching. Slowly, his arms wrapped around her, and he embraced his wife. His forehead pressed to hers, his lips descended, and they were kissing as though their very lives depended upon it.

Harry looked away, wanting to give them a private moment. His eyes sparkled as he glanced around and noted that, while Severus was the only other one awake, the others were beginning to stir.

With a wink to his girlfriend, the teenager sauntered over to Molly and gently leaned her up in the chair they had moved her to after she had fainted. He tucked a stray strand of fiery hair behind her ear before moving a few feet away and checking over Arthur, who was snoring softly. Luna exchanged a chuckled with Dom, and the two separated. The blonde went over to Hermione and Draco, while the professor traveled to Ginny and Neville. Like the Weasleys, they also had been moved to chairs after the revelation of the Gate. Meanwhile, Fawkes took flight and winged over to Bill and Sybill. He cooed softly as the witch stirred, moaning in her sleep. The two other professors were completely oblivious to it all, still locked in their intimate moment.

Molly Weasley groaned and shifted in her seat, memories rushing back. She exhaled and opened her eyes, only to snap them shut because what she was seeing could not possibly be true. There could not possibly be two Harry Potters. Or was it Salazar Slytherins? She couldn't tell as the two looked so much alike, and they were standing directly in front of her. A moment passed, and she opened her eyes again. She blinked, the two dark-haired wizards merging into one.

The redhead smiled. "Hello, Harry. Or it is Salazar?"

Across the room, Hermione shook her head and attempted to overcome the shock of what she had just learned. She finally sat up, her eyes fluttering. She glanced at Luna, taking the offered hand and being pulled to her feet. The brunette swayed slightly, but the other witch steadied her.

"Er… thanks, Aunt Siobhan," the Prefect whispered quietly, not quite meeting the blonde's eyes. She twitched uncomfortably, obviously uneasy with the situation. Not that Luna could really blame her.

It was rather strange waking up with a lifetime's worth of memories. Realizing that people you thought you understood, you didn't really know at all. It wasn't everyday that you discovered that the Ravenclaw you didn't particularly care for was your adopted aunt in a past life. Nor that your hated Potions professor was really your father and that the deputy headmistress was your mother.

Luna nodded. "You're welcome, Rhayne… Hermione," she corrected quickly.

The other witch smiled very faintly, but her attention was diverted to the other person in their corner. Draco Malfoy. The Slytherin had stirred some time ago, but he was just now beginning to wake. Hermione knelt next to his chair, while Luna dreamily ambled over to a moaning Neville Longbottom. The female Prefect helped the Slytherin sit up, staring at him the entire time. Draco stared back.

Minutes passed without either saying a word.

Finally, Malfoy opened his mouth. "So how are things, Rhayne? Lovely time we had earlier, wasn't it? I just so love being knocked unconscious by a necklace of doom and its mysterious, bright light," he commented flippantly, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair. He waited for her to respond, but when she didn't, he spoke again. "What's wrong, sis? Phoenix got your voice?"

Hermione stared at Draco with shock. "Um…er… you're my brother?" she asked hesitantly. "I remember him… er… you, but I wasn't sure that it **was** you. Aunt Sio… I mean Luna didn't mention that little fact," the witch murmured swiftly, speaking more to herself than to him. "She just said that Harry was really Salazar, Professors McGonagall and Snape were my… our parents. Oh, and that the Weasleys were really Aunt Helga and Uncle Edmund. Trelawney was our other aunt, and Ginny was Grandmother Amia. Bill was Elgin, which makes sense if you think about it…"

Her babbling continued in vain for several moments. The blond rolled his eyes and settled back in his chair once more. He was used to his twin's ramblings, after all.

"So you're my brother," Hermione picked up the original thread of the conversation several minutes later. Well, that makes sense, but that is just… that's just… well, that's very odd," she finished rather lamely.

The Slytherin sighed. "Yes, I got that the first time." He snickered, eyeing her. And then, he smiled. "You really haven't changed, have you? You still talk as fast as a dragon flies."

Hermione giggled, the sound quickly gaining a hysterical edge. Tears of mirth clung to her eyelashes, and she rested her head on the edge of the chair. She exhaled, wheezing slightly. She felt Draco shift. And soon, he was kneeling next to her.

"Hey… hey, it's alright," he whispered and stroked her hair. "Everything will be just fine now. We are together." A genuine smile tugged his lips. "Everything is as it should be."

To the side, another redhead sat up and groaned. He rubbed his head and the enormous knot that had magically appeared on it.

"Great," he mumbled, pulling his hand away to see that there was semi-dried blood on it. "We all get knocked out, but I'm the only one to hit my head on the way down. Blasted table. What was it doing there anyway?"

Grumbling to himself, he felt a weight settle on his shoulder and heard a lovely cooing in his hair. Belatedly, he noticed the feeling of moisture dripping onto the sore spot of his head and felt the pain ease away. His wound was now healed.

"Thanks, Fawkes," Bill commented with a grin, also noticing that all traces of grogginess were gone. "That is a wonderful pick-me-up. If we could package that and sell it as a hang-over cure, we'd make a fortune." He winked, a sparkle in his dark-blue eyes. "Works better than the potions we have now at any rate."

Fawkes trilled at him.

The redhead simply nodded and glanced around, noting the locations of the others. His eyes lit up.

"Hermione--"

A moan from nearby prevented the curse-breaker from completing his sentence as his attention was now directed to Sybill Trelawney, who was struggling to sit up. The phoenix flew over to her shoulder and without any apparent effort lifted her into position. The Divination professor's eyes focused, and she looked around, noticing that Bill was eyeing her with interest.

"Elgin, is that you?" she asked and rubbing her face. "My, you've changed." Her eyes flickered around. "Where's Rhayne?"

The redhead beamed. "Aunt Fiona," he greeted her. "Yes, I have changed, and Rhayne is over there with Rhade. They look to be having a moment, and I didn't want to interrupt.

The woman inclined her head and tried to rise but couldn't due to the phoenix. Suddenly, as if she hadn't noticed Fawkes on her shoulder, Sybill jumped.

She eyed the bird and scowled. "Bloody menace… gave me an awful fright; you shouldn't do that to people!" she muttered to herself.

The phoenix nipped her in the ear and danced away from her batting hand. Bill laughed.

Diagonal from them, yet another redhead, this one a slender female, turned heated eyes to Dominic.

"You!" Ginny Weasley snarled, glaring at the vampire in front of her. "You took my son away from us," she all but growled. "I saw it… the Gate showed it to us after it returned our memories."

Dom was filled with shame, but he looked her directly in the face. "I know, and I am sorry." He whispered more to himself than to her, "More than you will ever know."

She gazed up at him, defiance written on her lips. "And I'm sorry, but that's not good enough."

Nearby, hazel eyes blinked and stared at a portrait. The painted man stared back.

"I know you," the living wizard finally said. "I know you, but I don't know from where."

Images flashed through his mind. A boy with a splendid sword. Magic deadly and exhilarating. A wily enchantress with a wicked smile. A castle elegant in its simplicity and beautiful for what it represented.

The portrait beamed. "Yes, you do." But there was a sad gleam in his eyes, and he quietly nodded to Luna as she backed away from them. "You see the Gate could return some things to you but not all. You were not connected to it in the lifetime they want to return to you," he replied, speaking carefully. "It could prepare your mind for the knowledge and show you events that it was privy to. Such as Salazar's death. But it cannot return everything. No, it needs your help for that."

A look of confusion crossed a chubby face. "What do I have to do then, sir?"

The painting laughed jovially. "Sir, eh? People normally only say that to my face. I can only imagine the names they call me when I am not around. Using my name in vain is something of a habit for magical folk." He raised a whitened eyebrow in amusement, but his face suddenly took on a serious air. "I believe that you already know the answer to that question," he finished mysteriously, steepling his fingers together in a gesture very reminiscent of Albus Dumbledore.

His living companion tilted his head to the side, deep in thought. A minute passed and then two, the portrait studying him with a genuine smile and eyes shining with mirth. Hazel eyes glazed over. And suddenly, he knew what he had to do.

Without hesitation, the young sorcerer reached forward and touched the painting. And everything became clear. Dreams that had been plaguing him for a lifetime suddenly made sense. A lady and her lake, a boy and his sword, the pendragon and his kingdom, magic and its keeper. A lover that was both friend and friendly rival, who took his breath away and never gave it back. Cunning, clever like the raven.

Power that had just always been out of his grasp was now firmly his. He could feel it tingling just beneath his fingertips. It was his to do with as he pleased, to bring forth and protect, to summon and preserve.

Knowledge that he had always grappled with, that had always been at the edge of his mind, it belonged to him. It **was** him. No longer would he toil with understanding, fight just to comprehend. Now, he understood. He hadn't been wrong. He had just been different, fighting against methods that were suited to beginners, not masters like himself. He had failed not because it had been hard but because it was far too easy.

And confidence, belief in himself that he had never know he always had, that his grandmother and blood kin had all but stamped out of him… Well, it was most definitely his.

"I know who you are," Neville repeated with unfaltering confidence, eyes shimmering with wisdom and power. "I know you. I have known all along. I just never realized." He stood nobly, one hand on his face to hide his mischievous grin. "You are me."

* * *

They now sat in a circle, chairs turned inward. For the past hour, Harry, Luna, and Dom had been filling in all the details the Phoenix Gate had missed. Their plans for Voldemort and the magical world. Further, they were explaining a few other things, such the truth behind the Sorting Hat's song.

Or rather, they were **trying** to explain.

Hermione slowly raised her hand, Draco quickly snatching it and putting it back down. "But I thought that Salazar… that you," she corrected, "left the school in its third year."

"Well," Harry stated pleasantly, entering into teacher mode, "I did leave. Death is usually a pretty permanent way of leaving someplace."

The witch looked rather put out by that statement, not entirely sure how to respond. "Well, I suppose that's true," she murmured after a moment. She mumbled something inaudible to herself, and she was undoubtedly about to enter into another babbling phase, but Draco quickly distracted her.

"Yes, it is, but I'm back thanks to the Gate," Harry informed her.

"The Gate… You do know that both Albus and Voldemort are looking for it, don't you, Harry?" the Transfiguration professor interrupted.

"Yes," the reborn Salazar replied. "Yes, I do know. It was in one of the visions I told you about."

Minerva calmly asked, "Are you going to tell Albus about it then?"

"No," was his simple response. "No, not yet. I'm not sure if we can trust him with it."

The conversation stilled for a moment before Severus picked up the topic. "The Dark Lord will stop at nothing to get his hands on it, and there is a good chance that all his studies will lead him to you. Are you willing to take the risk that he will find you out before you tell the headmaster?"

Minerva continued before Harry could respond, "Voldemort craves the power that it offers. He could easily rule the world with such a thing, if he so desired. And Albus is committing a great deal of our resources to finding it before Tom. Resources we are short on, Harry." She studied him. "If you were to tell Albus, he could stop the search. Or even tone it down so that the Death Eaters will not be suspicious."

Harry exhaled in a rush. "I know, and I do plan to tell him, but now is not the time for that." He rubbed a tired hand across his face. "We have to be certain," he put in, lapsing into silence.

Nonetheless, it was short-lived.

"Phoenix Gate… oh, that reminds me," Luna commented, eliciting everyone's attention. She inclined her head to her boyfriend.

"Oh, right," he murmured, feeling the Gate heat up beneath his shirt.

Gently, both of them removed their halves from beneath their robes and scooted together. The others watched with interest as they fixed the pieces together, staring in wonder as the now whole phoenix engraving fluttered its wings and turned its head to pluck at them. It swiftly removed ten feathers and tossed its beak. To almost everyone's surprise, the metallic feathers did not remain within the amulet. But rather came flying out, landing with a soft thunk on the floor.

Without missing a beat, the blonde picked them up, the tiny feathers growing to twice the length of her thumbnail as soon as she touched them. With a nary a word, chains appeared, attached to each. Laughing, the Ravenclaw handed them out to each of the semi-stunned newcomers.

"What about Dominic?" Minerva asked as she received hers, the last to do so. "Doesn't he get one?"

The other professor smiled and pulled loose his very own phoenix pinion. "I already have mine," he informed her with a wink. "I have had mine since before I returned the Gate to Luna."

Hermione studied the metallic feather with interest. "So what do they do?"

Harry returned to his seat. "Well, they'll allow us to communicate over long distances. Just think of whom you need to speak to, and it will connect you mentally." He leaned back and steepled his fingers. "Also, since they're derivatives of the Gate, they connect you to it, but I'm not yet sure what all that entails. It will, however, let you tap into its powers if need be."

Neville studied the pendant, tracing his fingers along the edges and eyeing the intricate detail. He watched as the metal gleamed golden, shimmered to silver, and then faded to bronze. Absentmindedly, he tapped it with his fingernail. There was a bang and a poof of smoke. A baby chick was now sitting in the palm of his hand right where the feather had been.

"My apologies," he inserted with a calm voice at the others' expressions. Neville blinked, the clucking bird instantly returning to its true form.

Dominic glanced at the pinion and then Neville. "Does that happen often?"

Neville slipped the pendant around his neck. "Oh, all the time."

The others looked at him strangely before shrugging it off. They had all worked at Hogwarts, so they were used to bizarre magical accidents. Besides, it wasn't Neville's fault that he had so much magic now that it leaked out at times; the same had happened to them before. Though not quite on that scale.

Several minutes passed before the silence was finally broken by Bill. "There is something that has been bothering me," he put in, glancing at Harry and Luna. At their inquiring looks, he went on, "Why do you two look so similar to your past personas?" the curse-breaker asked with curiosity and shifted in his seat. "Is it because of the Gate?"

The blonde inclined her head. "Yes, we were tied to the Gate initially, so it helped preserve our looks. Though come to think of it, I am not entirely sure why." Luna seemed to be considering the problem.

Severus rubbed his chin between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand, deep in thought. "Perhaps so that the transition between lives would be easier. I suspect that you are the primary guardians." He indicated the couple. "Therefore, it would want you to be as comfortable as possible. A similar physical appearance would ensure that."

The others blinked, the pair nodding absentmindedly.

"Yes, well that does make sense," Luna replied, twirling her purple, broomstick earring with her finger and getting it caught in her hair.

"Yes, well, as interesting and incredibly important as this is," Arthur interrupted, gazing at his watch, "I have to go soon; my lunch hour is over. It'd be rather suspicious if I didn't return at all, even if I am quite late. The Aurors have been watching the other Ministry workers very closely as of late, looking for Death Eater activity."

Minerva wrung her hands. "I know that we still have a lot of details to discuss, but I promised Filius to fill in for his afternoon classes. He left on a mission for the Order at lunch." She glanced at Severus, receiving a quark of an eyebrow in return. "I can't skip without arousing suspicions, and we can't afford that yet."

Harry ran a tired hand over his eyes. He had truly wanted to cover everything today; they had purposely waited until a Friday to return the others' memories so that they would have time to go over everything. Regardless, they hadn't counted on the fact that they would be unavailable. And that just went to show that the best laid plans often went awry.

The reborn Salazar inserted, "We can't use the Gate to gives us more time; it's still recovering from bringing back your memories." He shook his head dejectedly. "Does anyone else have to go?"

Ginny raised a hand. "Athena and I are trying a few more of the twins' products. I told her that I'd meet her before dinner."

Neville added, rising from his deep thoughts, "And I have a special Herbology project that I'm working on with Professor Sprout. She is expecting me in twenty minutes."

He tapped the arm of his chair absentmindedly, lighting it on fire without even meaning to. However, with a nonchalant wave of his hand, the flames were gone, the chair looking none the worse for its recent burning.

"Well, we covered the most important things already. We could finish tomorrow." Dom, who was choosing to ignore the little pyrotechnic display, exhaled and grimaced in defeat. The vampire exchanged a look with his partners in crime, silvery eyes narrowing.

"We can't do it tomorrow. Remember, we have a DA meeting," Hermione interrupted. "It'll probably take up a good portion of the day. We're going to vote first and then go over spells."

Harry and Luna both made faces. In all the excitement, they had completely forgotten that they had scheduled the first DA meeting on Saturday. It was just the remaining original members plus those they had approached during the summer. But they were going to go over their progress so far, mentioning others that they could include. Further, Harry was going to introduce Dom as a willing ally and dueling instructor.

They had wanted to explain everything to the other Founders today. But with the fact that they would be missing a fourth of the participants, it wouldn't do them much good.

"What about Sunday? We can do it on Sunday," Harry said suddenly.

Minerva laughed. "No, to that one, too. Or have you forgotten? The Quidditch team is meeting to elect the Captain on Sunday and to decide when to hold tryouts."

Younger wizard sighed. He'd forgotten about that, as well. With his lifetime ban lifted, he was officially on the team again. He had to go to the meeting. Bugger!

Harry scowled, trying to think of something. Nevertheless, Minerva suddenly laughed.

"We can still do it afterwards. It won't take the entire day. You're just voting on the Captain. That's all, Sal!" She winked as he mock-glared at her.

The teenager heaved a sigh of relief. "So it's agreed then? Here at noon on Sunday." He glanced around, and seeing their acceptance, a smile graced his face. "Fabulous," he breathed as they rose, heading out the door and giving a small wave to La Muerte as he exited.

* * *

**_Hogwarts, The Room of Requirement: September 14th, 1996_**

"Well, it seems as though everything's in order with our new members," Harry said the next day, referring to the vote the DA had just finished. "Remember that they will all be in the second group. They won't be privy to what we're doing here until later, if at all. They'll only be learning Defense." Green eyes flickered to his girlfriend, a silent message passing between them.

The blonde smiled and gestured for him to continue.

"The last thing we have on our agenda is the twins' new projects, but before that, we have one final thing." He rose from his spot to more fully address the group. "With all the new members we're getting and with the skill of our probable opponents, we're going to need extra help teaching everyone. We need someone who understands magic and spells, someone who knows how Death Eaters fight, how they think." He paused to look at all those gathered. His eyes flitted from Cho Chang, whose friend Marietta was conspicuously absent, to Athena Avis to Colin Creevey.

"To this, we already have a person in mind – several people actually," he corrected. "The first I can personally vouch for. Further, he was an associate of Luna's mother. While many of you are familiar with him, you don't know him well, but he will be a great help to us." Harry smiled then, entire face lifting. "Besides, Professor Boyd has already agreed to with us. He'll be at our next meeting on Tuesday, and he's willing to duel with us outside of class."

The other DA members exchanged surprised looks, Hermione beaming at Harry. On the other hand, Ginny had a blank expression on her face. While the others were still somewhat doubtful about the Defense professor, the reborn Salazar's assurance was more than enough for all of them. Especially given his track record for ferreting out treacherous teachers.

"And the others?" Ernie Macmillian ventured after a moment.

"The only other we have for now is an Auror but a trusted one," Luna replied, blinking and looking up at the green and gold ceiling with interest. "She helped us at the Ministry last June."

Hermione nodded her head in agreement. "She might have problems getting into the castle though, but I believe that Professor Boyd will help with that." She ran a hand through her slightly less bushy hair. "The trouble is well worth it, however. Tonks is a knowledge and skilled Auror, even if she hasn't been one very long."

Ginny perked up. "Tonks is great fun, but she does know her stuff. And she went to school with my brother Charlie; he'll vouch for her, if you have any questions."

Susan Bones shifted in her seat, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I know her," she put in unexpectedly. "She was one of the Aurors who responded to the Death Eater attack on our home. She helped my aunt escape." The Hufflepuff looked at those gathered. "She saved my aunt's live. I'd trust her with my own."

Harry glanced around to see if anyone else wished to contribute. But as they were seemingly satisfied with Susan's statement, there were no objections.

"We might approach others later on to help teach us, but for now, we'll only have those two." He smiled pleasantly and turned to his left. "So onto our last item… Ginny, you're up."

"Right, then." The fifth-year rose, bringing forth a red hand-sized bag and quickly enlarging it with her to wand, and making it reminiscent of the sack the Muggle Santa Claus carried. "There are a number of things that Fred and George have been working on over the summer. And while some are not yet finished, most are." She dug into the sack and brought at a book-shaped box. "Without further ado," the redhead said and waved her hand, gesturing to the box, "I give you: Portable Swamp Deluxe. It's complete with poisonous swamp monster, alligators, and other assorted badies. Don't worry," she added, seeing Hannah Abbott's frightened expression, "there's a spell that keeps them from attacking you. I'll show it to you in a minute." She paused for a second, thinking over what she had just said. "Actually, when you're wearing the spell the creatures will defend instead of bother you."

Harry studied the box with interest and turned it around in his hands. "Wonderful, Ginny! What else is there?" He practically tingled with anticipation.

The Gryffindor smirked. "A whole lot." She dug into the bag once more. "There is also Portable Dark Forest, which is complete with ravenous wolves, man-eating bears, and some other stuff. And then, my personal favorite. Portable Death Desert. It has poisonous snakes, scorpions, and cacti. Oh, and quicksand. The same spell works as before; it also prevents the cactus and quicksand from reacting to you. You can walk right by and not have to worry; it does the same thing for the swamp." She brought out two more boxes, passing them around. "That's it for the moveable habitats, but there are a number of other things."

Over the next half-hour, Ginny showed them a variety of the twins' new gadgets, all of which were not available to the general public. Among them were marble-sized balls that when thrown ejected a sticky web-like goo on whatever they hit. The substance from the "Web-balls," as had Ginny called them for lack of a better name, was fire-proof and quite resistant to cutting. Further, the web spread over a person until they were almost completely covered. Which meant that if a Death Eater was hit in the chest with one, the substance would also coat their arms and legs in seconds.

Another interesting invention was a "Mimicking Necklace," as George had named it, which when worn could form copies of the person. The copies weren't solid, though they were corporal looking, so spells would go straight through. Also, they didn't possess any intelligence. However, they did mimick the movements of the necklace wearer and would actually cast fake spells that didn't do anything if they hit. A number of DA members were skeptical about their actual usefulness, so the fifth-year was forced to demonstrate. To do so, Ginny simply slipped on two necklaces, making two additional versions of herself. Then, she proceeded to successfully hex a very vexed Justin Finch-Fletchley, who couldn't tell the difference between the real her and the two fakes.

It was shortly thereafter that Ginny reached the bottom of her bag, and Harry called a halt to their meeting. The members slowly filed out, Harry and Luna the last remaining. The reborn Salazar beamed and took his girlfriend's hand. However, he couldn't help but shiver as he thought about the returned Founders, the new DA members, and the twins' inventions.

He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that they were going to need them all to succeed. They were going to need all the help they could get.

* * *

AN: This was an incredibly hard chapter to write. I wasn't sure how much detail to put into each character's awakening and remembrance, so I jumped around a lot, which means there are a number of blanks. However, I think you can pretty much fill them in. Oh, in case you were confused as to who everyone was, here it is again: Minerva is Rowena. Severus is Quinn. Hermione is Rhayne Ravenclaw, and Draco is Rhade Ravenclaw. Molly is Helga. Arthur is Edmund. Sybill is Fiona Ravenclaw. Bill is Elgin Hufflepuff, and Neville is Merlin.

In case you guys/girls were wondering about Neville… Well, the thing with him is not that he doesn't have magic, but rather, he has so much magic that it goes all wonky.

**Things to think about**: Halloween is quickly approaching, and what is Voldemort planning? What other inventions do the twins have up their sleeves? I am open to suggestions. Who will be joining the DA? Who is the mysterious La Muerte who keeps popping up?

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks.

Special thanks to _Ciara Crawford_ for the name Rhade, which I borrowed. I like it much better than Rheis.

_Chapter Twenty-Four: __Once More around the Merry-go_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**06/24/08**


	25. Once More Around the Merry Go

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**_"_**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Once More around the Merry-Go**

**_Unknown, The Throne Room: September 15th, 1996 (Early Morning)_**

Green eyes snapped open, glancing around swiftly. A stone throne, cowering followers, and a serpent abomination. Yes, Harry was once more in a vision.

The teenager growled to himself as he slowly took in everything, noting that Bellatrix was again present. He watched as Tom left his throne and walked amongst his followers, Nagini on his heels. Stretching out his magical senses, Harry noticed that Severus was not present, a circumstance that came as a great relief. He did not wish such horror on his friend, no matter his past crimes.

'I thought Occlumency was supposed to stop this,' the reborn Slytherin thought to himself as he casually looked around once more.

As usual, there were roughly two dozen wizards and witches kneeling on the floor in front of the towering Dark Lord. He, in turn, was walking between them, twirling his wand through his fingers. He occasionally sent _Cruciatus _curses at those he was displeased with, even as Nagini flicked her tongue and slithered over their bodies.

Harry sighed as he moved around, noting all those present and coming to stand behind Bellatrix. 'At least Tom is no longer aware when I'm watching. That's definitely a plus, but I should really learn how to control these blasted visions. Perhaps I should ask Severus. He is quite the master at this now, though I doubt he has ever been in this exact situation.'

The witch in front of him twitched faintly, as if she could feel his presence. Slowly, he waved his faintly transparent hand in front of her face, and her eyes focused on it as he wiggled his fingers. He carefully moved his hand to her shoulder, letting her know that he was once more visiting Lord Voldemort. And thankfully, Harry now had enough control over his visions that he could place his hand on her without it sliding through, though it did require some concentration.

She exhaled and tilted her head so that her hair fell forward to hide her mouth from view. "Hello, Potter," the witch murmured when the Dark Lord's attention was elsewhere. "He's just now learning of our progress on the Phoenix Gate," she reported softly as Tom began to discipline one of his followers on the opposite side of the room. "He's angry because we haven't discovered anything new." Her eyes stared straight in front of her, not wanting to glimpse the now thrashing Nott.

Harry squeezed her shoulder again, acknowledging her information. The tips of her lips twitched in response. But she instantly sobered as Voldemort once more began to move amongst his followers.

Tom snaked through the spaces between them, causally stepping on a stray edge of a robe or a hand every now and then. He ran his spidery fingers through Narcissa's hair and pulled out a few golden strands as he passed. He carelessly flicked off a hex at Rookwood, hitting the man square in his pock-marked face. Finally, he stopped in front of a burly wizard.

"Dolohov, how goes your little project?" a cold and serpentine voice asked.

The cowering Death Eater trembled even more. "P… perfect, my Lord," the man answered from his position on the floor. "We have exceeded expectations, Sire. Have many more specimens than we believed we would by this point. We'll have more than enough by your deadline."

Tom smiled.

And a shudder of revulsion went down Harry's spine.

"Excellent. I am most pleased with you, my servant." The serpentine man idly caressed his Death Eater and patted him on the head as one would a pet. The Dark Lord then sauntered on.

A look of pure relief crossed Dolohov's face when he didn't receive a curse for his efforts.

"Most excellent," Voldemort repeated as he drifted closer to Harry. "Bellatrix," he called softly.

Harry backed away just in case.

The witch instantly responded, keeping the bitterness out of her voice, "Yes, my Lord."

Voldemort approached her, resting his hand on the exact place Harry's had been mere seconds before. He leaned down, lips now next to her ear.

"Ah, my dark and wondrous Bellatrix. You and I have not had much time together as of late, and I find myself missing your entertaining company," he whispered in an undertone. So low that only Harry, who was just by her other side, could hear. "However, after Samhain, I hope to change that." He tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, hand lingering on her face. His pale fingers smoothed themselves over her skin, tracing her lips.

Bellatrix shivered.

With a strange smile, he finally pulled away. "Bellatrix, you shall lead the distraction against Dumbledore. Take Dolohov and your lovely sister with you, as well as the third division. They are not the best trained, but they are more than competent enough. Besides, with all the **additions**, you will have more than enough help." The Dark Lord gave her ear one last caress before he effortlessly stepped backwards. He turned to survey his minions, but within seconds, his attention flickered back.

"Kill, destroy, maim… I do not really care what else you do as long as you keep Dumbledore and all of his worthless lackeys there. Stay for as long as possible but do not get caught. Simply ignore Severus; he already has his instructions." Tom paused for a moment, something flitting across his face, but it was gone in an instant. "You are far too valuable to be lost to me again, and I will not be as forgiving of your absence the next time," he finished with an odd undercurrent, eyes going back to her for a moment.

Voldemort slowly returned to his throne. He steppled his fingers together in thought, looking a bit too much like Albus for the Harry's comfort.

"The Aurors will be distracted by the attack on Hogwarts. Only the dregs and the newest members will remain behind. They will not be too much of a threat, will not even notice our entrance into the Department of Mysteries. However, we still must ensure that they do not know of our true goal." His fingers unclasped, and one hand went to his chin, rubbing it. "Nott, you will lead the fourth division, team two. You are to guard the exits and prevent any from entering."

The man nervously glanced up. "Yes, Sire. I will make plans for it immediately."

From the side, Harry watched with interest, still hovering behind Bellatrix. But he instantly stiffened as he felt the tell-tale tingling in his extremities and the tugging motion on his body. The edges of his vision began to fall away, and everyone blurred.

Tom cocked a hairless brow. "See that you do. Take Edgecombe and our newest recruits with you. They can use the experience." He turned to his next follower. "Rookwood, you will lead team three. You are to serve as a decoy for our main group; any actual resistance will follow you in place of us."

The pock-marked man nodded in acquiescence and bowed lower. "It shall be done, my Lord."

Voldemort inclined his head. "You are also to pick up any artifacts you deem worthwhile. With your experience in the Department, it will be no trouble to determine their merit. It will obscure our true target, and by the time they catalogue all that has been lost, it will be far too late." He seemed rather pleased by the idea, caressing Nagini as she joined him on his throne.

Harry squeezed Bellatrix's shoulder as he once more felt himself being pulled away. Everyone was now little more than a colorful blur, save Tom himself, who was still quite clear. The teenager was forced to listen carefully to discern who was speaking.

"Yes, my Lord," Rookwood responded before hesitating. "Is there anything in particular we should search for, Master?"

The Dark Lord paused and gave the scholarly man a measuring look. "Yes, in fact. In one of the artifact rooms…"

The scene faded away, and Harry's eyes snapped open. Above him was the darkened red of his bed canopy. In the background and through his one-way Silencing charm, he could hear the muffled breathing of his roommates. He casually asked Hogwarts the time, learning that it was still hours before dawn. The castle embraced his mind, questioning him about his recent vision and shuddering as he whispered it to her. The attack that was to come weighed heavily on her. Yet, it was her children, the students and teachers within her, that she worried over. Not herself.

Wishing him goodnight, she withdrew. Harry simply stared at the canopy for long a time, his attention elsewhere. He closed his eyes and sealed the memory carefully in his mind so that he could repeat it in the morning to Luna.

His task complete, he rolled over and was once again lost in the world of dreams.

* * *

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, The Sorting Hat's Secret Room: The Same Day_**

That afternoon, everyone was gathered in a loose semi-circle of chairs. Luna, Harry, and Dom were alternating with the explanation of what they had achieved thus far. Which basically extended to organizing the DA, returning the memories to the other Founders, and plotting against Tom. They also mentioned that Voldemort had plans to attack on Halloween. And that Bellatrix apparently wanted out of the Death Eaters, a statement that caused Severus' eyebrows to rise nearly to his hairline.

Thankfully, their group had the rest of the day to talk as there were no classes to teach, no Ministry workers to become suspicious, and no friends to study with. The DA meeting the day before had gone smoothly, the returning members and the new recruits updating Harry on their progress. Additionally, they had recommended a number of other people for the organization, a few of them actually Slytherins. These students were to become a second branch of the DA, not as trusted as the originals and not in on the grand plan, but still learning Defense and being included in the protection of the school.

Earlier in the day, the reborn Salazar had also attended the Quidditch meeting. He had actually wanted to forsake the game entirely; after all, he had much more important things to deal with. But Minerva had pointed out that such behavior would be incredibly suspicious. Plus, he needed an outlet, and it was wonderful physical training, far better than anything he would have been able to come up with on his own. Not surprisingly, Harry had been offered the position of Captain. The other players had looked at him rather oddly when he turned it down. However, his quick explanation that Katie Bell, a seventh-year and the person on the team the longest, would be better was met with approval. He had heaved an enormous sigh of relief when the other players agreed it was all for the best, ignoring Ron's strange and measuring looks.

Afterwards, Harry and Ginny had hurried up to the Sorting Hat's room, using the Invisibility Cloak to sneak away from Ron's watchful eyes. By the time they had arrived, everyone else was already there, including both Fawkes and the Sorting Hat itself. What ensued was a major retelling of the events up that point with a long brainstorm about the pre-existing defenses of the castle and the other ways they could protect the students.

"Well," Severus commented and tapped his fingertips together, "the suits of armor are still under the control of Hogwarts and have the geas to defend against intruders. They'll fight against anything the Dark Lord dare sends."

Minerva nodded, smoothing her hair. "Also, the portraits will act as a relay system for information. Some of the better enchanted ones can actually physically attack trespassers, or so Albus tells me. However, I have never seen it myself."

A brief spike of assurance from Hogwarts was all the validation she needed.

"And the ghosts?" Harry questioned. "I recall that the spirits inhabiting Slytherin Manor were duty bond to use any of their spectral powers in defense of the family. I assume the same is true of Hogwarts." His memories of Salazar did not serve him here. A number of the castle's defenders had been added after his death, including most of the portraits and the ghosts.

"Yes," Minerva responded, using her knowledge as deputy headmistress, "it's true for here as well. Peeves is included on the list." She seemed distinctly uneasy about the prospect. "I'm not sure what abilities the various ghosts have, but I know the powers for a few of the House ones and a number of others. I know that Nearly Headless Nick can summon a spirit sword, which is effective against live people. The Fat Friar can still uses his clerical gifts, banishings and the like. I am not sure about the Grey Lady or the Bloody Baron though." She turned to her companion. "Severus?"

Yet, he shook his head. "Even I am not sure. As far as I know, he has never told anyone – not even the Head of Slytherin House – what he can do."

The others contemplated the mystery for several minutes before continuing on to the other castle defenses. The topic drifted afterwards to warning the Ministry about the attacks scheduled for Halloween. Here, Severus surprised them by actually lobbying to tell Moody and ask his opinion. Something highly unusual since Mad-Eye was known for his severe dislike of Severus.

"I just believe that it would be for the best," the Potions master stated calmly, keeping his voice in check. "While we might remember our past lives, none of us were trained to fight Evil Lords. We have many skills, but I fear that this type of planning may be well out of our league. We ran a school, a center of learning, not battle." He gently messaged a temple, Minerva squeezing their intertwined hands. "There are only two of us that knowing about such things," he concluded and indicated Neville and Dominic.

They paused to consider his statement.

And Harry suddenly interrupted, "I agree. It makes sense both logically and tactically. Moody, knows more about this sort of thing than anyone else I've ever met. Plus, any knowledge of ours would be dated."

Neville inclined his head in agreement, thinking back to his own days opposing evil. "Besides, we don't have to mention the Phoenix Gate at all, and we were going to tell the headmaster about it regardless. He'll undoubtedly mention this to rest of the Order. He has to. He can't keep something like this to himself."

"Yes," Dom inserted, "the only difference is that we would tell Moody at the same time as Albus." He thought for a few heartbeats. "Perhaps we should tell others with them."

Luna considered his proposal. "So it's agreed that we will at least tell Albus and Alastor. Within the week at the latest." The group gave a positive consensus. "And who else are we to include?"

"Tonks and Kingsley would be best. Maybe Charlie, but he doesn't really know about battle," Bill added with his parents quickly agreeing. "We know and trust them. The others are still unknown quantities."

"And what exactly are we going to tell them?" Draco put in, and everyone's attention flickered to him. "I mean, who are we going to say knows of the attack? Where will we say we got the information?"

Luna idly twirled a lock of silvery, blonde hair. "The truth would be best. We just have to limit it."

Fawkes, who was sitting on her shoulder, fluttered his wings. "Right. Tell them that Harry has had visions, ones that only became clear recently." He ruffled his feathers in thought. "He, of course, would have told his closest friends, hoping that could help him figure out what it meant."

"Which would be Hermione, Luna, Ginny, and Neville," Harry stated. He gave a cheeky grin.

Molly put in, "He wouldn't tell Ron because he's still recovering."

Harry nodded.

"Minerva would have learned of these visions somehow," Fawkes continued with a chirp.

"From me, of course," Hermione answered in a completely serious tone, which belied her smile. "I was worried, so I went to a professor. Then, she will tell Professor Snape because he knows about Occlumency. But that only happens just before the headmaster learns."

Ginny smirked and fought back a snort. "I'd tell Bill, who'd tell our parents."

"And Draco and I would just pretend that we had no idea what was going on," the Defense professor finished with an amused tone, belatedly noticing the scowl directed his way by the youngest Weasley.

"Precisely," Fawkes added. "We just need to work out the timeline of events."

They spent the next half-hour doing so. The group managed to iron out all the details, making sure their stories matched. After that somewhat interesting conversation, the topic again drifted, now landing on what they believed Voldemort would attack with. Suggestions varied from everything to Soul Reavers to Basilisks to Dementors. However, no matter how wild or bizarre the ideas, all were taken seriously. There was no telling what Tom had planned. What horrors he wanted to unleash. Or how many people would suffer for it.

"What if we're attacked by Inferi?" Hermione questioned after the suggestions became wilder and wilder. "It fits with what the _Prophet_ has been reporting lately. All the disappearances," she continued, adding logical arguments behind her reasoning. She turned to Dom. "Do you know anything about them, Professor? If you don't, that could be really bad since most of us wouldn't have a clue, and…" she trailed off when Draco nudged her.

"Well," Dom began, "I have never really been into having my own personal army of the undead. Frankly, they are quite disgusting. And they smell horrible, putrid flesh and all that rot," he stated, thinking about his advanced sense of smell. "However, that is a distinct possibility. I was actually planning a lesson on them around Christmas, but I think that I will move it up. Give me a few days though to get everything ready."

* * *

**_Hogwarts, The Dungeons: The Same Day (Late Evening)_**

Draco Malfoy took a deep breath, clenching his hands to keep them from trembling. His grey eyes flickered around the assembled group and measured each of them. Daphne Greengrass not-to-subtly stared back at him, measuring him in turn and boldly meeting his eyes. Theodore Nott was smirking, eyes glinting with mischief. Millicent Bulstrode smiled genuinely as she spoke to a dark-skinned Ravenclaw in an aside and occasionally looking around. Blaise Zabini quietly read through a text book, though he did look up every now and then. Several other faces also gazed at Draco from around the table where they were gathered.

"So, Draco," began Dimitri Dolohov, a seventh-year Slytherin, "what exactly is this about?"

Blaise tapped his fingertips on the table after putting his book away. "I thought we were more cautious than this." He tilted his head to the side, studying his blond friend.

Draco refused to back down. "We are. But something important has come up, something very important."

"Yes," Theo drawled, smirk still tugging at his lips.

Draco breathed very slowly. "We're all aware of our situation," he said and shifted in his seat. "None of us want to serve the Dark Lord, regardless of what our families think."

The others all studied him, wondering where this was leading.

"We're the oldest of the Slytherins. And it is our responsibility to look after all those in our House, to protect them."

"Yes, we know all this," Blaise put in after a second.

The blond nodded. "But what you don't know is that we now have an ally, someone… **several** someones willing to help us." Draco smiled at their shock-filled reactions.

"Who?" Daphne whispered, already burning with hope.

The blond smirked. "The DA," he supplied.

And everyone looked stumped.

"What… you mean Potter's people? The ones we turned in to Umbridge last year?" Dimitri asked with dismay. "Why, by Salazar, would they ever help us?"

Several others also voiced this question.

However, Draco quickly silenced them. "They'll help because they know that was just a role, a mask we were forced to hide behind," he answered readily, projecting authority. "They know that we don't really want the future our families have picked out for us. They know we have no loyalty to the Dark Lord," the blond finished with great aplomb.

Blaise quiered, "How do they know all of this?"

Draco was interrupted before he could respond.

"What? No, you didn't, Draco," Daphne started with wide eyes. "Please tell me you didn't."

"You told them about us," Millicent accused, finishing for the other witch. She gazed at him without something very akin to desperation.

The Prefect shook his head. "No, they already knew. I didn't have to say anything. They came to me."

"They came to you?" Theo questioned and pinched the bridge of his nose with exasperation. "That still doesn't answer the question of how they knew."

Draco fought and conquered the urge to fidget. He couldn't answer that question, at least not truthfully, not yet. But he didn't want to lie to his Housemates either, make the situation less than it truly was.

Finally, he answered, "I am not really sure. My guess is that they've been watching us and rather closely at that. Most likely, this is a clandestine offer inspired by Dumbledore or perhaps McGonagall." He sighed then, even as his Housemates followed his every word. "Their hands are tied by their positions and the wizarding world's view of us as Slytherins. They can't openly help us, but Potter can."

The dark-skinned Ravenclaw spoke at last. "And his noble Gryffindor nature assures us that he will give assistance," Gavin Darklighter finished knowingly.

The others paused for a moment and thought it over. They exchanged looks and whispered words. Finally, one by one, they each nodded.

"Fine. We'll make overtures back to him and see what happens," Millicent answered for the group. She hesitated before carrying on, "It's the best of the available options. Besides, it's still better than all of the other offers. Personally, I don't want some insane serpent-freak lording over me, but that isn't why you summoned us all here to discuss, is it?" The heavy-set girl studied him shrewdly over her clasped hands.

Draco gave them a grim grin. "No, it's not." He looked at them each in turn and murmured, "There are rumors, talks of an attack on Halloween." He purposely left it obtuse.

"Here, you mean," Daphne put in coolly.

"Yes."

Blaise asked him, "What do we know about it? What can we do?"

A true smiled threatened to blossom on Draco's face, but he reined it in. This is exactly what he had planned, what he had hoped for. He desperately wanted his Housemates to join the fight against Voldemort. They were needed to win. Without them, he shuddered to think what would happen.

Draco completely sobered. "Well…"

* * *

**_Hogwarts, Defense Professor's Office: September 16th, 1996 (Afternoon)_**

Ginny shifted from foot to foot, willing to have the obvious showing of nerves since Dominic was not present. She truly did not want to be here, not with the vampire. Honestly, she didn't want anything to do with him at all.

Siobhan had been her daughter. Adopted though she might be, her daughter still. And Salazar as both her daughter's husband and as her son's friend had become a son to her as well.

But that bastard, that monster, had taken him from their family. The dagger and runes that had banished Sal were his work, his doing, even if Godric had commissioned them. The vampire had not needed to banish Salazar for over a thousand years; it was entirely unnecessary. Not only that, but the blasted Dark creature had not even confirmed Godric's story about Salazar. He had simply taken it all at face value, and her beloved son had suffered for it.

And for that, she could never forgive him. He didn't deserve it.

The redhead stiffened as she heard the door to the office open, the vampire undoubtedly slipping in, though she couldn't hear him. Nonetheless, she did feel the tingle of magic in the air. And the fact that it was directed at the door was the only reason she didn't whirl around and start hexing. She fingered her wand, which was even then in her hand.

"Hello, Miss Weasley," a pleasant voice called from behind her.

She gritted her teeth, a sneer on her face.

"Please have a seat. I apologize for the delay. Professor Flitwick had a matter he needed to discuss with me."

She heard the door close but not the vampire as he appeared in her field of vision and headed for his seat. Ginny stubbornly remained standing, inching away from the front of the vampire's desk. Dom, of course, noticed but made no comment as he sat in his chair smoothly.

"Now, you are probably wondering why I asked you to meet with me," he began, silvery eyes deliberately avoiding her wand. The man paused to collect his thoughts. "I noticed some tension directed towards myself yesterday during our little tête-à-tête. While I know what it stems from and I am deeply sorry over the occurrence, I hope that it will not affect our overall goal." The teacher absentmindedly tapped his fingers on the desk in front of him to the rhythm of some nameless but slow song.

Ginny could barely hold in the sneer that threatened to spread across her face. "Tension, eh?" she queried rhetorically, heat in her voice. "Yes, there was great deal of tension, but don't blame it on me, vampire. I'm not the cause of any dissention in our ranks."

Dom's fingers froze mid-beat. "Forgive me, but I believe you have mistaken my words. I did not mean to accuse you of anything. I merely… wished to ascertain if our disagreement will leak into our dealings with the others."

The redhead folded her arms across her front defensively and ground her foot into the floor, wand still in hand. "No, it will not," she stated coldly. "I won't allow us to fail simply because I loathe you."

"Loathe me, Miss Weasley? Do you not feel that too strong a word?" the professor asked with a hint of alarm.

Ginny stepped forward so that the soft words she spoke would not be lost. "Too strong? No, I don't feel they're strong enough to cover my feelings for you," she whispered so quietly that the teacher almost didn't hear, even with his advanced hearing. "You robbed my daughter of her husband, my grandson of his father, and me of my son. No, loathe doesn't quite cover it."

Dominic blinked, quite taken aback. He tried to speak, but the witch beat him to it.

"It was Godric who murdered him, but it was you that gave him the means to do it! It was you who prevented Siobhan from even finding him in death, from reuniting with him in the next life. She had to wait a thousand years," Ginny murmured in the same deathly cold voice, her hands now on the edge of the desk, nails biting into the wood. "You didn't see her after he died. You didn't have to live with his loss, watch as it nearly destroyed her and Tristan, too. You weren't there, Necromancer Dorée. You can't possibly fathom what you did, what you truly cost us." The redhead leaned forward then, face now inches from his. "Harry might have forgiven you and Luna as well, but I will not. I don't trust those who harm my children, and I certainly don't trust **you**!"

Ginny stepped back and strode toward the door, completely ignoring the fact that Dom was her professor and that he had yet to dismiss her. However, it wasn't like the vampire noticed either.

Just as her hand reached for the knob and her wand was about to dispel the Silencing charms, she turned. "As to your original question… No! No, I won't let this interfere with our goals. But don't get me wrong, vampire. I won't let our plans prevent me from harming you should you show your true nature again. Once an enemy, always an enemy, Necromancer. You would do well to remember."

And with that, she was gone. Leaving a wide-eyed and incredibly shaken Dom in her wake.

* * *

**_Hogwarts, Defense Classroom: September 18th, 1996_**

"Today, class, we are going to learn about two types of undead: Inferi and zombies," Professor Boyd said in his usual pleasant tone as he came striding up to his desk. Nevertheless, his words caused a small shudder to run through the class.

"When're we going to get to vampires?" Seamus threw in shamelessly from his seat in the back.

Dean and he still believed that the professor was either a vampire or a dark-haired Veela. Or a Death Eater in disguise. Or possessed by Voldemort. Or a deranged Ministry worker. Or possibly a hundred other things. Harry was just waiting for them to start a betting pool, and he knew exactly what he was putting his Galleons on.

The teacher gave him a toothy smile. "We will get to them eventually, Mr. Finnegan, but for now, we will focus on the undead. A wise thing considering the Dark Lord's past partiality for them." The grin slide off of the Defense teacher's face, and he sobered. "This is a very serious subject, class. A very serious subject indeed. It is not a pleasant thing to talk about, but it is deadly important."

Every student was now hanging on his every word. Like Professors Snape and McGonagall, Boyd also had the ability to enthrall his students, keeping them silent and on the edge of their seats. They were looking at him with a mixture of fear and anticipation. Hannah Abbott gaped at him with watery eyes, while her desk-mate Susan trembled in her seat. Blaise Zabini and Millicent Bulstrode exchanged a shuddered glance. Theo Nott was giving him a blank face with both Lisa Turpin and another nameless Slytherin girl avoiding his attention. Seamus and Dean were so close to the edge of their chairs that they might fall out at any moment. The rest of the class was in a similar situation. Only Harry, Neville, Draco, and Hermione seemed to be unaffected, though the latter two would occasionally twitch at their desks. Neville simply watched the proceedings with detached interest, while Harry calmly looked at the professor, Occlumency shields at full strength.

Professor Boyd finally continued, "Now, can anyone tell me the difference between a zombie and an Inferi?" He peered around, looking for a hand other than Hermione's. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy."

"While both are created using the bodies of the dead, zombies retain no intelligence at all. They can follow simple instructions, but they do so literally and have no penchant for subtlety," the blond responded in a slow drawl, open face belying the tension in him. "They are simple puppets, ones that just happen to be constructed out of the dead."

The Defense teacher inclined his head. "Good! And Inferi?"

The Slytherin gave him a bleak look. "Inferi, on the other hand, do retain something of their lives, some intelligence. They can think and reason, though nowhere near their original level most of the time. The more skilled the caster, however, the smarter they will be. And the more deadly."

"Exactly, Mr. Malfoy," the professor cut in, gesturing that everyone should write this down. "An average wizard could make an Inferi intelligent enough to open doors, instead of simply bashing into them as a zombie would. Yet, a powerful or skilled magic user can make them every bit as intelligent as humans, sometimes even giving back the ability of speech." He paused and let the information sink in. His tired eyes traveled around the room, noticing a shiver of fright pass through them.

"Just imagine the horror of it," the man said quietly, still managing to be heard in the absolutely silent classroom. "Not only are you facing the undead, the bodies of people you might have once known, but they might speak to you. They could murmur to you, whisper to you about whatever random memory is currently stored in their minds as they inch closer to you, bent on destroying both your family and you. They might speak to you, reminisce about happier times, even as they kill you." He paused and fought the urge to shiver at his own words.

His students gulped.

Professor Boyd exhaled. "This, class… this is why Inferi are truly dangerous. They can think. They can talk. They can seem as though they are still alive, still the person they resemble. However, they are not. They never can be," he informed them sadly. "Nothing can bring back the dead, not like that, not how most people would want." He deliberately did not look at Harry.

A moment passed in silence and then two. No one dared speak, terror still lingering in their faces. The teacher simply watched them all, dreading what was to come. Harry gazed pointedly just over Professor Boyd's shoulder, not even wanting to contemplate the horror of having to face a loved one like that. His chest felt incredibly tight, and his breathing was labored as an image of Inferi James and Lily Potter floated through his head.

"Now," the professor began again.

The entire class jumped at his voice.

"My apologies," he added after their hearts had started beating again. "Now, powerful casters don't always make them as thus. They can still enchant weaker Inferi, especially if they are unwilling to part with large amounts of magic or put much effort into it. However, it is still a possibility. One you should always be vigilant against."

Echoes of Mad-Eye Moody rang in his head, and the tightness in Harry's chest eased. The image shifted as Hermione laid her hand on his wrist and squeezed it tightly. His mind now supplied him with the visual of Inferi Hermione, Inferi Ron, Inferi Albus… Inferi Luna.

He trembled, but the warm and welcoming presence of Hogwarts quickly calmed his thoughts. The reborn Salazar sighed with relief and looked up, only to see the professor gazing at him with knowing eyes.

His look easily conveyed his message, "_We will talk about this later_."

The teenager barely nodded, but it was good enough for the vampire.

"There is one good thing to note about the creation of zombies and Inferi, however," the Defense professor inserted smoothly, as though he hadn't just been having a silent conversation. "There is a time limit on the viability of corpses for the process. Those who have been dead for longer than a month cannot be used. So after that time, at least you do not have that to worry over."

Hermione, of course, raised her hand. "Professor, how long does the enchantment last? I mean how long do they…" she trailed off as she searched for the right way to phrase her question.

"How long do the undead last?" the Defense professor questioned for her, and she nodded. "Once again, it depends on the skill of the caster and whether they regularly update the spells. Normally, without updates, they would exist for several weeks. Even with strengthening the spells, most only last a few years." He hesitated and considered whether he should actually tell them the next part. "Yet, there have been cases of Inferi that were sustained for years, decades on the strength of the original enchantment alone. Those are incredibly rare, thankfully, so I do not believe we will truly have to worry about that."

The class looked somewhat stumped. Parvati raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss Patil."

"Why are there Inferi that can last so long?" the Indian girl asked.

"It goes back to the power involved. The strength of the magic put in to keep the bodies from completely deteriorating," the man responded, moving to sit on the edge of his desk. "You see, Miss Patil. When the undead are created, spells are laced throughout to prevent them from decomposing, breaking down. Most people can only delay the onset of it or slow down the process."

"Like with the Preserving charms used on flowers," Neville inserted, actually speaking for once. He noticed the others looking at him with interest, still not used to him answering sensibly.

Professor Boyd smiled. "Precisely, Mr. Longbottom, like Preserving charms. However, some people are strong enough to make the spells last much longer." He again hesitated, unsure if he really should voice the next part. "There are even rumors of those powerful enough to make them permanent, much like the Everlasting Iris in the legends of La Muerte and her mate."

"Powerful enough to last forever?" Seamus asked, rather bug-eyed. "Like You-Know-Who? Could he do that?"

A murmur of unease ran through the class.

The Defense teacher sighed. "I honestly do not know the answer to that, Mr. Finnegan. I honestly do not know." He spoke more to himself than to them. "Though, I sincerely hope never to find out."

* * *

**Things to think about**: Tristan Slytherin is lurking in the background, even if he doesn't yet remember the past. La Muerte is, too, though nobody ever seems to comment on her. More of her will be in the second story. Yes, she is important in the long run. There is a Merlin sub-plot, which will mention King Arthur and Morgana le Fey. It does have some important and relevance to this fic. There is also more to the Bellatrix not-so-sub sub-plot.

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks.

_Chapter Twenty-Five: Healing and Hope_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**06/25/08**


	26. Healing and Hope

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**_"_**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Healing and Hope**

**_Hogsmeade Wizarding Village, Home of Amia Hawthorne: Late Winter, 963 A.D._**

"It's done," Fiona informed them as she all but collapsed onto her chair. "It's finally over." She gratefully accepted the cup of water Edmund offered her.

"She is cured?" Siobhan questioned as she once more took her place beside Amia and stroked her hand through her adopted mother's hair.

Her brother swiftly took his place next to her, also running his hand over the older woman.

The eldest Ravenclaw sister nodded. "Yes, but she will still be tired for some time, weak. But it's finished. The curse has been lifted; it will no longer leech away her life." She quietly sipped her water, her head drooping with exhaustion.

Helga placed a quilt around the Healer. "Here, Fiona," she murmured, removing the cup from the other woman's hand and setting it on a nearby table.

"Thank you," Fiona mumbled and blinked slowly.

Lady Hufflepuff corrected with a smile, "No, thanks to you." She didn't have to say what it was for.

Fiona merely nodded, watching as Siobhan and Edmund silently surveyed their mother. Helga also gazed at them for a moment before turning her attention back to the redhead. Fiona sighed, seemingly lost in her own world. She idly lifted the quilt to her chin and snuggled deeper into it. Her blue eyes were half-lidded, and she fiddled with her mismatched necklace and dress.

"Such an unusual disease… curse really," Fiona commented to Helga.

The brunette started at the sudden address. "What do you mean?" she asked with a mixture of apprehension and interest.

Fiona shifted in her chair, folding her feet under her. "What plagued Amia… it was unlike anything else I have ever seen. It didn't behave like a disease, but it didn't quite feel similar to a curse either." She tapped her finger against her check in thought, watching as Siobhan whispered something to her brother.

Edmund quickly rose and left the room.

"How did it feel then?" Helga questioned, her eyes flickering back and forth between the Healer and Siobhan, who was now listening also.

Fiona hesitated. "It's hard to describe. It leeched away her life, but it did not physically damage her body. Her trembles and thinness were a result of a lack of energy, not of actual injury." She tilted her head to the side. "Further, she was always freezing, never showing any sign of fever. Once again, it was like she simply lacked the energy to become warm."

"And she was always in pain," Siobhan inserted suddenly, tracing her hand down her mother's face. "She always felt terrible pain. The only time she was ever warm was when it was tied to the pain."

The blonde quieted as Edmund returned, bringing with him a bowl of soup. He sat back next to his mother, now spoon feeding her.

Fiona inclined her head in silent agreement and turned back to Helga. "Yes, and it seemed to come out of nowhere, this illness. One day, she was perfectly fine. The next, she was near death. There was no intermediate step, no decline. Few diseases are as such. With them, there's usually some sign of what is happening." She gently massaged her now aching temples. "This didn't act like an illness but more like a curse. Yet, curses don't have symptoms like Amia displayed." The Healer sighed, long and drawn out. "It is most puzzling."

The two lapsed into silence, watching as Amia finished her meal and laid back. Siobhan once more smoothed her hair, singing to the older woman and bidding her to sleep. Edmund took the bowl to wash out, not returning until sometime later.

Finally, just as Amia drifted off to sleep, Fiona spoke again.

"And still I wonder," the redhead murmured, her eyes seeking Helga, "I wonder why this happened. What motive a person would have for doing this. For certainly, this did not happen by chance?"

"That is a worthy question, but I feel it isn't the one we should be asking," Helga put in after a long pause, smoothing her hair back. Her gaze was fixed on her friend, her husband, and her mother-in-law. "I don't think we should be wondering why, dear Ravenclaw." She shook her head. "Not why at all." Her face tightened, eyes narrowing dangerously. "But rather who?"

* * *

**_Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, The Kitchen: September 24th, 1996_**

Molly sat heavily in her seat, waiting for the everything to start. The Order was meeting to discuss Harry's "recent" dreams of Voldemort, dreams that the young wizard had confessed to Dumbledore just a day earlier. In turn, the old headmaster had immediately summoned those his most trusted lieutenants. Well, the ones at Hogwarts at any rate. Albus had been quite surprised when he learned that a few had already known and had been on their way to tell him.

All in all, it had worked perfectly. It had worked exactly as they, the Founders and company, had planned.

And so now, Molly sat in the kitchen of Grimmauld place, waiting for the rest of the Order to arrive. She patiently situated herself in her chair and grinned at Remus, who was sitting across from her. The werewolf was reading the _Daily Prophet_, undoubtedly seeing countless articles about Voldemort's reign of terror and the numerous missing persons. Remus was here at the discretion of the headmaster, a concession Minerva and Severus had grudgingly allowed.

Molly's gaze drifted across the table, landing on Sybill Trelawney. The Divination professor gave her a taut smile and inclined her head. The Weasley matriarch nodded back, a tightness to her face. She fought the urge to fidget as she thought about her recent conversation with the woman and the Healer's promise to examine Ron.

Molly was to fetch her son from Hogwarts on Friday after lessons had ended and bring him to Grimmauld Place. She had already talked over the arrangement with the headmaster, though he did not know to whom exactly Ron was being taken. Albus simply thought that they were staying at Black Manor before going to see the Healer. He didn't know that they were actually meeting her there. But then, Dumbledore didn't know of Sybill's gifts either.

The professor gave a polite head bow before turning away. And again Molly's eyes wandered, now looking at Tonks and Kingsley. Her ears twitched, and she could pick up faint hints of their conversation.

Tonks smiled sweetly. "It was a rather thoughtful gift, Kingsley. Though, I do wonder how he knew that I love irises. Especially live ones that I could plant in the garden" She inclined her head in thought, but she still managed to notice the bald man shift uncomfortably. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"You told him, didn't you, King?" the metamorph questioned, pink hair standing on end. "But when would you have seen Dom to tell him. Unless you specifically sought him out." Tonks put both hands on her hips. "Please tell me you didn't. I don't need you to check up on my…"

The Weasley matriarch allowed her mind to filter out Tonks' recriminating words, not wanting to further listen in. She was about to look around once more, but a creak outside the kitchen door drew her attention. Without announcement, Albus and Alastor entered, the latter's magical eye whirling all around.

"Hello, my friends," the headmaster stated, his customary sparkle somewhat dimmed. "I fear that we don't have time for many pleasantries, however, due to a grave matter that has been recently brought to my attention."

The elderly man swept in, taking his seat at the head of the table, Minerva to his right and Severus to his left. Moody hobbled over to the chair next to Kingsley, his magical eye sweeping about once more.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers together, leaning on the tabletop. "Yesterday, it was brought to my attention that Harry, regardless of his success with Occlumency, has again been having dreams of Voldemort."

At the thought of such visions, there was a collected shudder around the table, one Molly didn't have to fake.

"While they were initially indistinct and garbled, they became clear on Sunday. Harry informed his friends about the dreams, and they in turn told either their parents and siblings or various members of my staff." The headmaster's eyes swept around the table, going from Minerva to Bill to Arthur and finally landing on Severus. "Then, it was brought to my attention."

"And what exactly are these dreams about?" Remus inquired, a strange look on his face. It was not unlike disappointment.

Molly couldn't be sure if it was due to Harry still having visions or if it dealt with the fact that he hadn't personally told the werewolf. For all his knowledge and experience, Harry was still a human. As such, he hadn't wanted to disappoint Remus, tell the older wizard that he was still susceptible to visions, the very thing that had led Sirius to his death.

Wizened eyes flickered to the werewolf. "Apparently, Voldemort plans to enter the Department of Mysteries on Halloween."

Everyone, including those who already knew, instantly stiffened.

"And he plans to use an attack on Hogwarts as a distraction."

It was like someone had cast a mass Petrifaction spell. Everyone was frozen in time. Tonks mouth dropped open, while Kingsley's eyes widened so much that his irises were little more than a thin ring around his pupils. Remus stiffened instantly, his hands gripping the tabletop so hard that his knuckles were turning white. There were now little grooves in the surface where his nails had dug into the wood. Even the Founders' group couldn't help the shudder that ran through, but then, Hogwarts was very precious to them.

"How?" Tonks asked, freeing herself first. Her face was very still, hair was now a dull pink.

Dumbledore's already faint sparkle dimmed more. "That we do not know. Voldemort was purposely vague so that even his followers would not be certain. I fear that he suspects a spy within his ranks." In that moment, the old man looked more tired and weary than anyone had ever seen him.

The werewolf unfroze next. "And Harry? Does Voldemort know that he was listening in?" Remus looked at the professor with thinly veiled dread. Concern was clearly written on his face.

"Harry assures me that Tom did not notice, and I am inclined to believe him," Albus answered, a hint of some nameless emotion in his voice. "For one, Severus has confirmed that there are plans for an attack on Hogwarts." Dumbledore's gaze flicked to his Potions master, who inclined his head, face an emotionless mask. "For another, Tom would never reveal such a thing to Harry, not even as a diversion or a distraction. Also, Harry's Occlumency skill, while not enough completely deaden their link and prevent visions, is enough to mask his presence."

Kingsley and Moody seemed to be thinking over the problem.

"Do we know why Voldemort wants to enter the Department of Mysteries? Does he think that the prophecy wasn't really destroyed?" Mad-Eye inserted with a voice even gruffer than usual.

Albus shook his head. "No, Tom knows it to truly be destroyed." He paused then, his twinkle nearly gone. "The true reason he wishes to enter is because he believes the Phoenix Gate to be hidden there."

Once more, everyone froze.

"Please, say that it isn't," Kingsley implored softly and ran a slightly shaky hand over his bald head.

Tonks nodded in agreement. Remus watched him with narrowed, golden eyes. Even Moody seemed to be hinged on what the headmaster was about to say.

However, Albus couldn't reassure them. "I honestly do not know. There is a chance, a very good one, that the Gate is there. Hidden within the depths of the Ministry. Even the Minister would not know if it was." He slumped slightly, looking every bit his one hundred and fifty years. "The only person who could know with certainty would be the department head. And even then, there is a good chance that Artemis Avis doesn't know. Her predecessor, Revan, disappeared during the last war, taking the most closely guarded of the department secrets with him." His twinkle completely disappeared. He exhaled in defeat.

But it was Remus who said the obvious. "Then, the Gate could very well be there with no one the wiser."

* * *

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, The Room of Requirement: The Same Day_**

"There is something I have been meaning to discuss with you," Dom began without preamble as Harry and he entered the room half an hour before the DA meeting was scheduled to start. They were having a full meeting today, meaning that it was everyone in the Defense Association as opposed to the trusted inner circle, Dumbledore's Army. The Slytherin Contingent, Draco's group, would be there also.

Harry surveyed the area, noting the wide space for dueling and the partially enclosed spaces at each of the far corners. "And what is that?" he asked and turned to glance at the vampire.

In turn, the reborn Slytherin received a look that clearly said, "You know what I mean."

Harry fought the urge to sigh. "Yes," he prompted again.

Dom raised an eyebrow.

The vampire gestured to two chairs that had just appeared side by side, and the pair quietly sat. Dominic leaned back, settling in his seat and setting his elbows on the arms. His gaze was fixed on the teenager, who somewhat uneasily looked back at him.

Finally, the vampire spoke again. "You had a rather adverse reaction during the class discussion of Inferi, and if I remember correctly, you were distinctly uncomfortable when we spoke of it to the other Founders." Silvery eyes dared the other to form a denial, which he thankfully didn't. "I find myself wondering why, Harry."

The young wizard was silent for a moment. "I was just… imagining my friends like that. Just imagining… and remembering," he admitted softly.

Dom was immediately blank-faced. "You have encountered Inferi before?"

"Yes, as Salazar." Harry exhaled very slowly, running his hand through his hair in a nervous gesture. "Godric and I came upon them during our travels." He again hesitated, as though he had used his word quota for the day. However, he unexpectedly added, "It was… unpleasant."

Dom knew that declaration to be quite the understatement. "I can imagine." And he really could.

Harry sniffed and glanced at his companion. "Yes, I would say that you could." Green eyes glazed over as he looked away. "It was… horrible. Really, that is the only way you can describe it. The person who made them was powerful and very skilled. They could… they could talk. They did talk, and the things they said…" He trembled in remembrance. "And there were so many. So very many. Even children. And their relatives were there… the others from their village were fleeing from them. Apparently, they had been trying to reason with the Inferi, not realizing what had happen. What they had become."

The professor studied him closely. "And then, the Inferi had attacked them." It was a statement, not a question.

Harry scowled. "Yes, and that's how Godric and I found them. They were running for their lives. Fleeing from monsters that wore the faces of the people they loved, that sounded like them." He gave a shuddering exhale.

"Does Luna know about this?" Dom inquired gently, wondering if he would need to bring this matter up to the reborn Siobhan.

Harry gave an affirmative. "Yes… not all the details, but she knows. She thought I was over it ages ago, but sometimes, I would still think about it. I would wonder who was responsible, you know." He finally looked at the vampire again. "We never did find out, Godric and me. We investigated; we asked the surviving villagers. But no one knew anything. Or perhaps they were too horrified to remember."

"Perhaps," Dominic allowed, silently letting the subject drop.

Now was not the time to address it again. Harry needed a chance to mull over everything before it was brought up once more. Maybe he would ask Luna what she knew about the situation, what Salazar had actually told her. Even if there was another eyewitness, it was not as if he could ask Godric what he remembered about the incident.

The feeling of someone approaching snapped both of them out of their prospective reveries. Harry rose as his girlfriend entered, and he strode over to meet her by the door. Their hands instantly intertwined. Dom couldn't help but give a small grin.

Slowly, the other members of the Defense Association started to filter in. Hermione and Neville were first after Luna, coming in only moments later. Next, came a group of Gryffindors from various years, the youngest Weasley among them. Ginny's eyes immediately traveled to Dominic as she entered, and she gave him a cold, scathing look. Nevertheless, her friend Athena Avis tugged on her arm and pulled her along with the others.

Soon enough, almost everybody was gathered, a few late arrivals trickling in. Everyone waited with baited breath for the meeting to start. Harry and Professor Boyd stood in the middle with Luna, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville, surveying those gathered. The reborn Salazar and his friends were pleased to note that quite a number of Slytherins were among those coming in, nearly a full fourth of the group. A fair number of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were members, too. However, it was no surprise that Gryffindor was the largest House group.

Harry was also pleased to notice that the students were mingling more along their skill level lines than by House. The previous week the DA had met to give its new members the basic guidelines. But so many students had shown up, over seventy, that Harry and the Defense professor had been forced to use their fall back plan. As such, they had divided up the group into three different skill levels.

The lowest level, Beginner, consisted off those with almost no knowledge of dueling or Defense. Also, in this group were the first and second year pupils, regardless of how skilled or knowledgeable they actually were. There were some spells in the upper levels that required more power than that available to the youngest years.

The middle stage, Intermediate, was filled with students who possessed the most basic knowledge and some skill. Most of this group were third through fifth year students, though there were a few older pupils, much to their chagrin.

By far, the smallest group was the highest level, Advanced. Strangely enough, the majority were members of the inner council, Dumbledore's Army. Though neither Harry nor Dom had purposely done this. It all bogged down to the simple fact that most of those in the group were returning members from last year. A few of the others were their close friends, who had received extra help from their more knowledgeable companions.

The only part of Level Three that wasn't members of Dumbledore's Army were the members of the Slytherin Contingent, as Draco had not-so-jokingly called them. They were the leaders of the Serpent House, bent on keeping it out of Voldemort's hands. And they consisted of all those the blond had approached over the last weeks, as well as those that he had been true allies with all along. While it did have a few younger years, it they almost exclusively consisted of sixth and seventh year Slytherins along with the token Ravenclaw or three.

The Slytherins had recently met with Dumbledore's Army, proposing a secret alliance between them, secret mostly because of their fear of Voldemort. The DA had quickly agreed, and thus, the two groups were now regularly meeting to discuss the various goings-on at Hogwarts and in the wider world.

The only ones who weren't currently at the meeting and who would probably never actually come to a Defense Association gathering, were the more notorious members of Slytherin House. Namely Draco, Pansy Parkinson, Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, Dimitri Dolohov, and Theodore Nott. All had connections with the Death Eaters and would have had a hard time explaining to their relatives why they were attending DA meetings with the Boy-Who-Lived. As such, Dom and Harry were going to tutor them privately. A few of the other older Slytherins joined them, like Draco's friends Blaise and Millicent, even though they had no ties to the Dark Lord. Yet, they mostly went to provide moral support, not to mention receive extra practice under Dominic's skillful hand.

Giving himself a satisfied nod, Harry came back to himself "Hello, everyone. Welcome to another meeting of the DA," he greeted.

Instantly, the room fell into silence.

"Last week, we divided into three groups, and like we told you before, you will remain in these groups until we feel you are ready to move up. Or if we feel that you need to move down a level." He paused letting the information sink in. "Right then, Professor Boyd." Harry yielded the floor to the Defense professor.

Dominic smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Potter. Now then, since that is completely clear. Level One – that's Beginner, in case you have forgotten – will meet in the far corner." He indicated a partially enclosed area off to the side. "The helpful Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, and Mr. Longbottom will be supervising you today." His grin widened as the students in the lowest rank along with their instructors walked away.

Once they were gone, he went on, "Excellent. Now, Level Two Intermediates will be taught by Miss Lovegood and Mr. Potter today, and they will be over there." He pointed to the opposite side of the room from the Beginners. "Finally, everyone else will be with me."

And with that, everybody moved off to their prospective groups. Or rather Harry, Luna, and the Level Two students walked away, while Professor Boyd and his group remained in the middle of the room near the dueling platform. The teacher quickly set them to warming up by conjuring various types of shields among other things, but the reborn Salazar couldn't quite hear the last bit as he moved out of range.

They stopped in the unused corner, Harry and Luna standing in front of the nervous pupils. Most of them were younger than their instructors, though the frowning Ravenclaw seventh-year was a clear exception. The wizard scowled at Luna, as if it were her fault that he was there and not with the more advanced group. Regardless, the reborn Siobhan merely ignored him and quietly hummed something that suspiciously sounded like "Weasley is our king."

Mentally shrugging, Harry began, "Now then." He grinned at everyone as they clustered even closer to him, apparently quite excited at the prospect of learning from the famed Harry Potter and his lady love. "Today, we are going to mostly review just to make sure everyone is up to snuff." He could see the disappointment etched onto their faces, but he quickly chased it away. "Review is very important to dueling," Harry swiftly informed them, a stern undertone in his voice. "You have to remember the basics to be able to build on them. So that is what we are going to do… ensure that we know the basics." He tilted his head to his girlfriend as an oblique offer that she could continue for him, which she did.

The blonde gave the younger pupils a dreamy smile and spoke in a whimsical tone, which belied her sober words. "Everyone, please pair off. We've an even number, so there shouldn't be any problems."

They reluctantly did as they were told, turning to face their instructors once they had complied.

"For now, we're just going to use the most basic spells: Stunners, Disarming spells, Tickling charms, and on. Do **not** cast anything that is above that level." For once, her voice took on a serious lilt. "Begin whenever you are ready."

The students exchanged glances and hesitated for a moment before facing each other. They begin to cast at each other. Or rather attempted to do so. Most were not successful, only causing their opponents to step back when they were supposed to be disarmed or to blink sleepily when they should be stunned. Luna and Harry worked their way among them, correcting as they went and giving helpful hints. One pairing, a rather unusual Slytherin-Gryffindor partnership, seemed to be having a slightly worse time of it than the others, even though they were actually managing to cast at each other with some variance of results. But they were still far below the level of Defense they should be at their ages, even though they were among the best of the entire group.

After a few minutes and hitting a lull in corrections, Harry idly allowed his gaze to drift around the room. His eyes first traveled to the Beginners, who seemed to be focusing more on wand work than actual casting. Hermione had them all in a single line spaced apart and facing the same direction so that they wouldn't accidentally hex one another. She demonstrated in front of them before moving behind the line to where Neville and Ginny were currently prowling, the three fixing various flicks and swishes of the younger students.

Next, his gaze wandered over to Dom, who was now watching from the sidelines as his group dueled amongst themselves. The professor slowly started to amble among them, correcting a few wand movements, pronunciations, and blocks as he went. He paused for a moment behind Susan Bones and Lavender Brown, who were standing very close together. The vampire leaned in, stating something to them that Harry definitely couldn't hear. Nevertheless, it must have been well received because both witches beamed at him before they took several steps backward from each other. Again, the professor wandered between his students, pausing at various places and always receiving smiles and nods for his troubles.

Harry was greatly pleased by this development, a clear sign that the inner council members were warming up to the Defense teacher. Initially they had been somewhat stand-offish to the announcement that he was to assist them. Even after Luna personally vouched for him, the DA was skeptical. Now, however, they were positively reacting to his advice, actually doing as he suggested.

With a grin of his own, Harry turned back to his own group and nudged Luna. "Look at Dom's group," he said in an aside, his eyes now fixed back on his own pupils. "Do you see what they're doing?" A faint frown tugged at his lips as a third-year Gryffindor misstated a spell and accidentally scorched his partner, a fourth-year Slytherin.

His girlfriend nonchalantly looked over and made a pleased sound. "They seem to be listening to him, and they actually look to be learning something from it."

"Yes, they do. Plus, I don't think that they see him as a potential threat anymore," Harry added in a low murmur, watching the same Slytherin-Gryffindor pair. The fourth-year girl ducked out of the way as the Gryffindor sent a strangely purplish-red Stunner in her general direction.

"And that's good because he is not." Her attention drifted back. "Finally, we have a Defense professor on our side." She also frowned as the third-year sent a Disarming charm that only served to make his partner's hair turn turquoise.

Harry finally drifted over to the pair, taking the now very exasperated Slytherin off to the side and adding her to another group of two. He leaned down to whisper something to her, and her lips immediately forming a smirk. She laughed, turning to look over her shoulder at the Gryffindor. The third-year paled.

However, just before Harry left he softly shot back, "Yes, and isn't it nice to have a Defense teacher who isn't trying to kill me."

Luna snorted, now partnering with the third-year herself. 'Well, there is a first time for everything,' she thought as she ducked another purplish-red Stunner.

* * *

**_Grimmauld Place, The Third Floor Study: September 27th, 1996_**

Sybill Trelawney stuck her tongue between her teeth, lost in deep concentration. Her eyes were unfocused, as though she were looking at something that no one else could see, and she slowly ran her hand just inches above her patient's freckled skin, careful not touching him. Her thin fingers passed over his cheeks, mouth, nose, and finally over his eyes. She froze and lingered around his forehead.

After a moment, the Divination professor moved again, ghosting her hands the rest of the way around his head. She gently tapped him on the ear with her left index finger and could feel a shiver of power run through him. Yet, it ended as soon as she removed her hands, moving the appendages to her lap.

"Roll up your sleeves," she commanded quietly.

Her patient gave her a strange look. His eyes flickered to his mother, who was hovering nearby.

Molly Weasley nodded. "Please do as she says, Ron," his mother implored.

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Once more, his eyes flicked from his teacher to his mother and back. Professor Trelawney simply gazed down her nose at him, her glasses greatly magnifying her eyes. The Weasley matriarch raised both of her eyebrows, giving an encouraging smile.

Finally, he exhaled and acquiesced. The Gryffindor slowly rolled his sleeves up to above his elbow, the lingering marks from the Department of Mysteries now visible. Ron sank lower into his seat, hunching over and looking at his professor with an expression of extreme discomfort.

Sybill gave him a grim grin and slowly ghosted her palms over the fingers of his right hand. Her eyes glazed as she cautiously worked her way up his less injured arm. When she reached the scars caused by the brains, she slowed and passed over them several times. Each instance, she came closer to his skin, still not quite touching it.

A few moments passed, and the professor moved her ministrations to Ron's other arm. However, this time Sybill actually ran the tips of her fingers over the marks in an almost caress. The teenager trembled, and her eyes snapped into focus.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you, dear," the Healer apologized. Her gaze drifted to Molly, who was now hovering even closer.

Ron muttered, "S'okay." He turned his head away, not wanting to watch.

The professor nodded curtly, passing over the scars once again. With her right hand, she gripped his wrist to keep him from jerking away. Several heartbeats passed in this way, Ron now on the edge of his seat, his teeth gritted. At last, she let him go but not before tapping him again, releasing a soothing wave of power.

The Gryffindor relaxed, and his mother glided in behind him. Molly gently placed her hands on his shoulders as the Divination teacher scooted her chair backwards. She looked off into space, clearly in thought. Both Weasleys watched her with bated breath. Ron gaped at her and tried to determine if his recent ordeal actually had a purpose. Molly simply gave a knowing sniff.

Sybill's lips moved slightly, as though she were conversing with herself. She mumbled something and then nodded. Absentmindedly, she turned to the bag that had been by her chair the entire time, digging through it. She selected a single very aged book and pulled it forth, instantly flipping to the index before going to a specific page. Trelawney scanned it before closing it with a snap.

"Well, Mr. Weasley," she started, "I do believe I know what's wrong with you." The Seer pushed her glasses up her nose with her forefinger.

A moment passed. "Yes," Molly prompted, hands still on her son's shoulders.

Sybill crocked an eyebrow. "You were correct with your hypothesis that the brains from the Department of Mysteries were the cause of your behavioral and mood changes." She tilted her head, causing her glasses to slide down her face. "Do you want the good new or the bad news first?" she asked suddenly, placing her hands on the arms of her chair.

Ron and Molly blinked, the Weasley matron's eyes widening.

"The… the bad first." The teenager's head swiveled around, actually causing him to give a grunt of pain. He rubbed the crick out with a shaking hand.

Trelawney again pushed her glasses up her face. "Well, the bad news is that the brains have caused a slight but progressive imbalance in both your aura and your magic. This imbalance, in turn, is affecting your mental processes." She paused and let the information sink in. "The good news is that your condition is not deteriorating. Also, it's perfectly treatable--"

Molly heaved out the breath she had been unconsciously holding since Sybill's pronouncement. Imbalances in magic were an exceptionally dangerous thing, especially in someone whose magic was still maturing, such as Ron. In cases like his, imbalances could lead to the degradation or complete loss of his magic, making him little more than a Squib. Further, his body would not be able to function properly without its innate magic. It would slow down, and several vital processes would cease. A severe magical imbalance could possibly cause it to fail entirely, leading directly to an untimely and exceptionally painful death.

"However..."

Sybill's words instantly still the redhead.

"However, due to the nature of this imbalance – a very unusual and hard one to notice, I can assure you – the treatment will be difficult. Perhaps even uncomfortable. If not painful."

"But it's still curable, right?" Ron finally asked with a shaky voice.

Grey eyes looked at him intently. "Yes, Mr. Weasley. Yes, it is. Soon enough, if all goes well, you'll be as good as new."

Molly Weasley smiled, and a terrible weight lifted from her soul.

* * *

AN: I know that I skipped the DA session where they divided everyone into the three skill levels. However, it was not vitally important to the plot, so I didn't want to bore you with it. The actual process used to divide them doesn't matter, so I am not going to bother. We can pretend that Dom knows how good they are and grouped them off. Suffice it to say, they are all divided up with all of the inner circle members in the highest group with a few others.

Oh, to clear it up. Slytherins who aren't in Draco's group are still coming to the DA meetings. Draco's group is basically the oldest members of the House. Also, the Slytherins aren't official members of Dumbledore's Army, the inner council. They are only allies, so they don't know of the plans, etc.

**Things to think about**: Who cursed Amia and why? Why didn't Madam Pomfrey notice Ron's reaction to the brains? When did Kingsley talk to Dom? What happened to Revan, the old head of the Department of Mysteries? Is he actually important to the plot? Finally, Salazar and Godric encountered Inferi made by a powerful Necromancer, and just who was this Necromancer? Why did I even bother to ask?

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks.

_Chapter __Twenty-Six: Before I Sleep_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**06/26/08**


	27. Before I Sleep

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon. Also, the title is from an episode of Stargate: Atlantis.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

_**"**__**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Before I Sleep**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Minerva's Rooms: October 12th, 1996_**

Minerva simply stared, her eyes searching. She fought the urge to fidget, a nasty habit from her younger days, and idly wished that Severus was here with her, though he was currently elsewhere with Harry. Besides, her lover had enough problems of his own, what with Draco and his Slytherins and his own unease and uncertainty about the former Salazar.

Her gaze shifted back to her companion, taking in the myriad shawls, necklaces, and beads. The Transfiguration professor opened her mouth to speak but promptly shut it. Even weeks after they remembered, she was still unsure what to say.

After all, how does one relate to their former sister?

Grey eyes studied the other woman again, as if searching for some outer sign of what she was thinking. Trelawney simply sat there quietly, occasionally sipping her tea and tapping her chin with her forefinger. She, too, was watching. Waiting as the tension between them built even more, seeing if it would finally reach the breaking point.

"This is awkward," Sybill blurted out, setting down her cup.

Well, that was certainly one way to begin.

Minerva snorted. "Yes. Yes, it is." She paused, knowing that if she didn't say something now, the chance to connect would be lost. Perhaps forever. "When I came rushing to the rescue of my students this wasn't exactly what I expected to happen," the older woman continued uncertainly.

Sybill slowly smiled. "This wasn't what I expected either. Before, we respected one another. We were associates, colleagues, but we weren't exactly…" she trailed off.

"Friends," Minerva completed for her. "No, we weren't. We just couldn't connect, not really. There was always something in the way, whether it be the Order or the students or--"

"--your disdain for my craft," Trelawney asserted but kept her voice neutral. She tilted her head back.

The other witch looked at her sadly. "Yes, and I am sorry for that. I can't help the way I feel, and I won't excuse it."

Sybill sniffed and turned away.

A minute passed in silence.

The chance was once more slipping through her fingers, and Minerva scrambled to hold on to it, a sudden thought occurring to her. "I suspect this is much how Severus and Harry currently feel," she murmured more to herself than to the other.

Nevertheless, Sybill's eyes flickered to her, a question evident in them.

The deputy headmistress explained, "Salazar and Quinn were such great friends in the past, brothers even, but their present incarnations despise each other." She gave a silent sigh of relief, glad to have something else to focus on.

"That they did," the Divination professor put in softly with a slight snort of remembrance. "And now, there is so much tension between them. Though they try to hide it for our sakes," she added with a twitch of her eyebrow.

"Aye, there is a great deal of tension, but it isn't like it used to be. Before, they simply hated each other. But now, with their returned memories, they are just… awkward," Minerva commented and also sipped her tea. "They simply don't know how to relate to each other any more."

Sybill seemed to be considering the statement. "Not that I can really blame them for that one. They have five years of animosity to work through, which is fighting with almost ten years of friendship, not to mention Salazar's death." She shrugged. "It will simply take time."

"But it has almost been a month." Minerva finally voiced the worry she secretly possessed, "It's been a month, and I fear that we are running out of time. The war is degenerating rapidly, and they are still dancing around each other, unsure of what to do."

"Much like we still don't know what to do." It was a statement, not a question. "Here, we are discussing Harry and Severus, as though they are naughty children who should know better. When we are doing much the same thing as them," Trelawney put in, twisting a necklace through her fingers.

Minerva gave a self-depreciating laugh. "Yes, that is true, but…" she trailed off with a shrug.

The Divination professor didn't reply.

Minutes ticked by, the clock on the mantle letting them know how quickly the seconds of their lives slipped away. The two women avoided catching each other's gaze. Minerva tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair, while Sybill continuously twisted her necklace in her fingers.

"We were never close before," the older woman said quietly.

Sybill looked at her.

"Before, even when we were sisters, we weren't really close. I could never understand you." Her eyes were glazed over in memory. "I just… I didn't understand you. I couldn't comprehend how you could be a Seer or even why you would want to be, why you loved it so." She exhaled, deep in thought. "That's why we are different than Severus and Harry. For all their awkwardness, they still have a foundation to build upon. We… we do not."

Sybill looked at her with incredibly wide eyes, and she opened her mouth but swiftly shut it.

Finally, she simply asked, "What… what do you think we should do about it? How do we change that? Do we even want to? Do we really want to be more than we are now?"

Minerva blinked and starred into her now cold tea. "I honestly don't know."

* * *

**_Hogwarts, The Defense Professor's Office: October 14th, 1996_**

"Excellent, Miss Bulstrode," the Defense teacher intoned with a smile as he ducked her expertly blocked and rebounded spell. He quickly cast a more powerful curse to ensure that her shield would hold, only to sidestep as she redirected it at him. "Wonderful."

The Slytherin smirked at him, shooting her fellow Serpents a pleased look before she stepped back.

Dominic smiled. He strolled away, weaving his way through the other students. The vampire hesitated so that he wouldn't come into the path of Dimitri's spell on its way to Gavin, one of the few non-Slytherins present. The dark-skinned Ravenclaw sidestepped and ducked at the same time, the curse flying over his head and hitting the wall on the far side of the expanded room. The orange-silver light struck the surface with the force of a manticore, and thick fractures in the magically reinforced stone radiated out from the impact.

Professor Boyd gazed at the Slytherin with an appraising eye, impressed by the advanced magic. That particular type of Concussion spell was university-level; he hadn't expected a seventh-year to not only know it but to be able to cast it with such precision and strength. The force alone probably would have left the other student a smear on the wall, instead of with addled brains, had it hit.

The vampire gave an internal shudder as the thought fluttered through his mind. The hex would have certainly killed the younger pupil. Part of him, the same part that had been consumed with guilt over his actions concerning Salazar, demanded that he step in and prevent them from further using similar spells. Yet, another part held him back.

What they were doing was dangerous, that much was readily apparent. However, it was necessary, and it wouldn't do them any good if they pulled their punches. They could be assured that Voldemort and his followers would show no mercy, using the most powerful and deadly magics in their arsenal. They had to be prepared, even if it meant taking risks.

Overall, Dominic was exceptionally pleased by the progress they had made thus far. The Slytherins had mastered the spells he taught far faster than the other DA members, with the notable exception of the original members and Harry's inner council.

'But then,' the vampire mentally added as he continued on his way. 'There is a very good reason for their progress.' He momentarily paused, watching as Millicent ducked Daphne's Bat-Bogey hex. 'For one, they have performed magic longer than the other students. Most of their families started them on it long before Hogwarts.'

His lips twitched faintly as the heavy-set witch transfigured a spare scrap of parchment into a flock of ravens and sent the birds at her partner. The other Slytherin grimaced in surprise, trying to dive out of the way.

'For another, they have a greater motivation than the others,' his thoughts went on. 'After all, they are not just learning to defend themselves, their friends, or their families. A number of them will actually end up defending against their relatives.' The professor shook his head sadly. 'No, they are fighting for their very lives, for the right to choose their own destinies.'

The teacher eyed the female pairing once more. The smaller witch was fighting off the various ravens, while dodging other spells at the same time. Daphne actually managed to send a few curses out to keep her partner on her toes. But the teenager was forced to duck out of the way as a hex from another practicing pair came toward her.

Using her friend's moment of distraction, Milli cast another spell. '_Abrogarma_,' she sent out, the red and purple light shattering the other girl's shield. She smirked in triumph with the oak wand of her partner now firmly in her hand.

Professor Boyd nodded at her with approval and wandered over to where Draco and Theodore Nott were working. He smiled as Theo stepped to the side so that the vampire could partner with the blond instead. Out of the corner of his eye, the Prefect saw his teacher wink.

'_Prometheum_.' Without warning the Defense professor sent a powerful and silent hex at his student. A molten wave of flame shot out of his wand, spreading out on either side and growing even longer and higher as it moved forward.

Draco brought his wand forward. '_Espejo Mágico_,' he countered, erecting a small, mirrored shield that was barely larger than his hand. However, the faint shimmer of energy that completely encircled him belied the size of the barrier, suggesting it was far larger than readily apparent.

A spike of tension ran through Theo and the other watching students. A few exchanged ominous glances as the temperature in the room spiked. Their fellow Serpents' shield did not seem powerful enough to block the hex. In fact, it looked as though it would liquefy from the sheer heat of the teacher's spell.

The center and leading part of the fire-wave was intersected inches in front of Draco's mid section. The sparkle of energy around the Slytherin glimmered bright enough to be seen, but it faded in an instant. A molten wave of heat continued to roll forward. But the reflective glass did not melt as expected, merely shimmering red-gold as it completely absorbed the other spell.

Draco smirked faintly, and the vampire raised an eyebrow. His face betrayed nothing as he sent another curse at his student.

'_Ansante_.'

The faint yellow light shot out of Dominic's wand faster than the human eye could track, heading for Draco's seemingly unprotected side. However, it struck the semi-invisible shimmers of the mirror shield, which brightened as the spell was absorbed. The tips of Draco's lips twitched, the only forewarning Professor Boyd had as the blond finally sent back a spell. A ripple of surprise went through the man as he pulled his head to the side just in time, the curse whizzing over his shoulder. Without his heightened reflexes, the magic would have hit him dead on.

The vampire's calculating eyes studied his student. "_Aestuo Sangre_?" the Defense professor murmured barely loud enough for the blond to hear. "I am impressed, Mr. Malfoy," he added loudly for the other pupils.

He eyed the Slytherins, thoughtfully considering what he had seen of their skills over the last hour. For a brief moment, hope flared in his chest. Perhaps they did have a chance at winning after all.

"What can I say?" The Prefect gave an elegant shrug and instantly drew back the vampire's attention. "I actually listen in Defense this year," Draco put in smoothly, smugness evident in his posture. Though it was belied by the fact that his wand was still trained on the professor.

A strange grin tugged at Professor Boyd's lips as he slowly backed off. "Indeed, Mr. Malfoy." He inclined his head and casually walked to the far end of the room but not before he softly sent back over his shoulder, "And maybe that will be enough to save you."

He didn't bother to notice the reaction his words had caused; he didn't need to.

Draco's smirk was already dead.

* * *

**_Hogwarts, The Headmaster's Tower: The Same Day (Late Evening)_**

"I think that is more than enough, my boy," Albus Dumbledore panted slightly as he lowered his magical shield. His eyes were twinkling like mad as he conjured two armchairs, lowering himself into the first.

Across the room from him, Harry beamed. "I have to agree," he stated as he wiped sweat from his brow. "Not to shabby, if I do say so myself." He walked over and plopped himself down in the vacant chair. "I can now see why you're so respected, Albus." He added with a wink as the headmaster laughed, "Not that I couldn't before, but I now know for sure. I have to say that I hope never to battle you in a true duel. I would certainly lose."

If it was possible and apparently it was, the sparkle in the professor's eyes increased. "Perhaps, but I would not be so sure, my boy. You gave me a fair run for my Galleons. I dare say that I am quite tired and more than a bit thirsty" He winked in return before softly summoning a house-elf. "Peachy--"

The tiny creature instantly appeared. "Yes, Master Dumbledore, sir." She looked at the headmaster with thinly veiled eagerness.

The man's lips twitched. "A tea for me, please. Not too hot." He turned to his companion. "Harry?"

"Just water, thanks." Harry cast a discreet Cooling charm on himself as the little creature popped away. "That reminds me," he added as the house-elf returned with their drinks. "How is Dobby doing?" He watched as the elderly wizard conjured a table in between them. "I've actually missed him. Strangely enough."

The old man smiled into his tea. "Fine. He is fine. He checked in just this morning with a report on his mission." At Harry's intrigued look, he continued, "Things are going well if a bit slow. He said that he probably won't be back until after Halloween, most likely not until mid-November at the earliest."

At the casual mention of Halloween, the pleasant mood between the pair instantly plummeted. A slight undercurrent of tension was now in the air.

Harry promptly set down his glass.

"Halloween… humph." He ran his forefinger over the bridge of his nose and pushed up his glasses.

Dumbledore slowly lowered his teacup. "Yes, Halloween." He paused, as though waiting for the correct moment to bring up an unpleasant topic. "Actually, there was something I have been meaning to ask you about that." He waited for the teenager to glance at him before continuing. "I know that you have been preparing the DA members for it, but I am not sure of their progress. I know the original members are well versed in Defense, but will the others be of any help protecting the school?"

The reborn Slytherin considered his answer. "Yes," he said simply, "but I wouldn't recommend anyone under fifth-year being directly involved. The younger years should be hidden away from the battle. They're able to defend themselves but not nearly to the level that they would need on the front lines. Or even in a supporting role."

The professor seemed to be considering the answer. "There is a safe place for them in the castle," Dumbledore replied, looking every one of his hundred and fifty years. "It is easily defensible and has only one entrance but multiple exits in case the students have to flee. Minerva and I had planned to place the students there," he continued thoughtfully.

Harry nodded. Unbeknownst to Albus, the Transfiguration teacher had already mentioned the plan to the other Founders and himself. The area the headmaster planned to stash the students dated back to Hogwarts' construction, so he was already familiar with it. The room was hidden in the dungeons and had specifically been made for the purpose Dumbledore described. It was exactly what he needed, not to mention that almost no one knew about it. As such, it would be difficult for the Death Eaters to find if they actually managed to enter the castle. All in all, it was perfect for them.

"We agreed that the sixth and seventh-years would be more than capable of helping us protect the castle if they so desired, but the fifth-years and below were to remain behind with the Prefects in charge," Dumbledore stated after a moment. "However, if you feel that some of them are up to it, they could join us."

Harry thought about it. "The DA members are up to snuff." He quietly sipped his still cold water. "But there are a few things I have to ask about."

"Like what, my dear boy?" Blue eyes studied him over steepled fingers.

"What about the students with Death Eater ties or sympathies? I'm not saying that they will, but the ones that are placed away from the battle will later be able to report the location of the hidden area to their families." A bitter smile tugged at Harry's lips. "It wouldn't be hidden any longer." He pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture oddly reminiscent of Severus Snape. "To this, the upper years would be put in a rather awkward position during the battle. They would possibly be fighting against their own family members."

The headmaster seemed oddly pleased by his favorite student's question. "Well, to the first part of your query, the way there is convoluted and confusing, but a determined person could eventually find the room. Also, I do not believe in placing Memory charms on our students to obscure the knowledge; there are multiple ways around such a thing." He inclined his head, clearly thinking it over. He took another sip of his tea.

"We will have to find another location to secure them should we be attacked again," the headmaster at last decided. "A very likely thing given Tom's focus on us," he added as an afterthought. "However, I believe that I already have an idea about that. We would certainly have to clear it out and add additional protections, but I believe the Chamber of Secrets would make a magnificent hiding place for our students."

The teenager couldn't help but snort, finding the presentation of such an idea quite amusing. "It probably would. We'll eventually have to look into that."

Albus gave him a small but genuine smile. "As to the second part, there really isn't much we can do about that. We can give them the option of not fighting, but it is their choice. Most of them are mature enough to handle that decision on their own." He hesitated. "Further, there is still the worry that students will betray us. Though it pains me to even think of such a thing, it is still a distinct possibility."

"Yes, it is," the reborn Salazar acknowledged, "though I would say that the ones we really have to worry about probably aren't the Slytherins."

The old man beamed him with pride. "No, the Slytherins as a group are doing their best to stay out of Tom's hands. Their addition to the DA and the help that Professor Boyd is giving them will provide an advantage in the endeavor."

"And what of the others, the ones with unclear loyalties?" Harry inquired with something nameless to his voice.

Dumbledore sighed. "Hogwarts and Fawkes have been watching them closely, not to mention the professors, the portraits, and the ghosts. We have a list of ones to watch, but we keep an eye on several others with Death Eater leanings." He tipped his head back and fingered his beard. "Just as you said, most are not Slytherins. Not even a third are." He shook his head. "Strangely, the largest House group is in Hufflepuff, but that is somewhat understandable. Most have strong loyalty; a thing engrained in them by their parents fanatical devotion to Tom."

"I'm assuming that they'll not participate in the battle," Harry inserted.

"No, only one is old enough to do so anyway," the headmaster responded, still twirling his beard. "I doubt she would even try. She is not particularly competent in Defense." Albus looked somewhat saddened. "They will stay with the student body, but I have assigned several ghosts to monitor them during and after."

Harry didn't say anything. He simply sat in silence, processing the new information. Albus cautiously watched him over the brim of his teacup, noticing the normal glow of his green eyes was oddly dim.

"Harry?" the elderly man prompted.

"I'm worried," Harry confessed.

Albus reached out to grasp his shoulder.

"There are just so many things that can go wrong with this."

The older wizard squeezed his shoulder fiercely.

"So very many…" he trailed off, glancing up at his mentor. He didn't need to describe what exactly could go wrong; it would be easier to name what couldn't.

"I confess that I am worried about it, too, Harry," the old man added slowly, withdrawing his hand from the teenager's shoulder but not before giving it a final squeeze. "I would have to be crazy not to be."

Harry snorted faintly.

"However, the best we can do is to prepare for the situation and pray to the Maker. He peered at the teenager over his half-moon glasses, as if something had occurred to him. "Unless there is something else that is on your mind also."

Harry exhaled slowly, meeting the older man's eyes fully. It was now or never. He had the perfect opportunity, and Dom had wanted him to say it, after all. But still, it was hard. He had been holding out on his mentor. And soon, the man would know it, too.

Harry finally said, "It's about Professor Boyd, Albus." The young man paused for a moment, running a hand through his slightly damp hair and making it even messier than usual. "I think that there is something you should know about him."

* * *

**_Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, The Kitchen: October 15th, 1996_**

The headmaster drummed his fingers on the heavy wooden table, waiting for the Order meeting to begin. But while his body was poised in his chair, his mind was elsewhere, focusing on what Harry hold told him a scant day ago.

Dominic Boyd: his Defense professor, the DA advisor, charmer of the hearts of Hogwarts' female population, and Chocolate Frog Card collector extraordinaire. He was a vampire. Not just a vampire, but the semi-notorious and famous – read infamous – Dominic de Dorée.

And somehow, Albus Dumbledore had missed it completely.

But Harry had known. How Harry had known… well, Albus wasn't sure. Or maybe why Harry had known was the better question. The headmaster actually knew the how; Dominic had told the boy. Nevertheless, Albus just couldn't understand why the vampire would tell him. He couldn't fathom the man's reasoning.

Did he want to convince Harry that he was no danger? Did he want the boy to see him as an ally, a friend?

Well, to the first question, telling Harry had probably not helped all that much. In fact, confessing that he was a vampire most likely made the young man even more cautious. On the other hand, it was better that he come clean before Harry found out. The boy could take the fact that Dominic wasn't human and was probably dangerous; he had stayed friends with Remus, after all. He just couldn't take people that lied about it.

As to the second, clearly, Dominic desired something from Harry. And he was doing his best to aid the teenager. Yet again, Albus just couldn't understand why, and this of course led to the old wizard's original questions.

What did Dominic get out of this alliance? Why would he place himself in such a position, in the path of danger for a teenager who by all appearances he had no connection to or contact with before the school term? Why?

He didn't even know why Harry had said anything in the first place.

Then, there was the confrontation in his office to consider. After Harry's revelation, he had sent Fawkes immediately in search of the professor, the phoenix bringing him back via flame-travel. A flash of surprise had been plastered on the vampire's face as he had arrived; Fawkes obviously had not given any warning before transporting him. But at the same time, he had remained strangely calm, taking everything in stride. Silvery eyes had flickered around, noting the fact that both Harry and Albus were present. Instantly, understanding had lit his face, and he had smiled.

Dominic hadn't even asked why he was there. He had already known.

A shiver went up the elderly headmaster's spine as he remembered. And he let his mind drift off of the memory and onto slightly more pleasant, though still confusing, topic.

The head of the Order sighed to himself, momentarily torn from his thoughts as Sybill and Minerva entered the kitchen together. He idly watched as they moved over to the stove to assist Molly. Slowly, his eyes swept the rest of the way around the room.

Tonks and Kingsley were quietly taking in the corner, their heads leaned in close together so that they could barely whisper and still hear one another. It was the closest they could come to privacy in the room without casting an Anti-Eavesdropping ward. Alastor clomped through the door a few moments later and joined them.

Bill was sitting by himself at the table, silently looking over a few sheets of parchment and occasionally scribbling what appeared to be Arithmancy equations. Across the table from him and to the left, Remus flipped through a copy of the _Daily Prophet_, which he promptly threw down in disgust before picking up the _Quibbler_.

Arthur sat sedately near the stove, occasionally contributing to the conversation between his wife and her two helpers. He looked up as Severus swept in and made a beeline for him. Apollo Avis and Dedalus Diggle entered after the dark man, taking seats on either side of Bill. However, Diggle strangely pulled his chair away from the curse-breaker.

Dumbledore's thoughts drifted once more.

Albus was vaguely ill at ease with Dominic now. It wasn't the fact that the man was a Dark creature or a Necromancer. After all, the headmaster knew better than to buy into those stereotypes, but it was the fact that he was a completely unknown factor. There were stories about the Necromancer, but it was impossible to discern fact from fiction. Half of the tales were obviously untrue, but the other half had too many layers and were far too murky to tell. Dumbledore just couldn't be sure of what the vampire truly believed or which path he followed.

However, Harry had vouched for Dominic personally. He had clearly stated that he trusted the vampire and believed him trustworthy in turn. Harry, who hoarded his loyalty and gave it rarely, trusted his Defense professor. So despite his misgivings, Albus had relented and allowed the man to stay. Harry's word was good enough for him.

Then, there was fact that Dominic had not been forced to come forward with this information. He could have remained silent. He could have simply carried on as he was, and Dumbledore would have been none the wiser. The vampire had fooled him that completely.

Albus just didn't understand. None of it made any sense. He was missing something, some vitally important fact. A clue that connected it all together. The headmaster just didn't know what.

The last of the Order members straggled in, firmly shutting the door behind them and taking their seats. Albus exhaled and stood. His normal twinkle was noticeably absent.

"Good evening, everyone," the elderly man intoned, trying his best to sound pleasant. Nonetheless, his next words completely went against his tone. "I have called this meeting to discuss our plans for Halloween and how we are proceeding."

His eyes glided over each face, seeing the various expressions. Anxiety. Faint fear. Hope. Determination.

He nodded to the new Head Auror. "Kingsley."

The man raised a non-existent eyebrow. "Amelia has been warned about Riddle's plans. We haven't spread the news to anyone we couldn't personally vouch for, so only a bare minimum of our subordinates know about the attacks. We've already started preparing our forces as best we can without giving too much away." He shook his head, his earring glinting in the firelight. "There are rumors running rampant through the ranks though. Everyone suspects that something will happen around then, but they have no idea where we'll be hit. The idea of the Ministry or Hogwarts being attacked has barely even crossed their minds; they think it is still too early in the game for such a bold move." The dark-skinned man had to fight to not roll his eyes at their foolishness. "Plus, they don't believe Riddle will again try for the Department of Mysteries so soon after his failure there."

The professor nodded in understanding and thanks before turning to his next report. "Apollo, Arthur, how are things among the mid-level in the Ministry?"

The redhead hesitated before responding. "Tense. Everyone's been jumpy lately, more so than usual. They think that something major will happen soon."

Apollo took off his glasses and cleaned them with his shirttail. "They all figure it will be in or around Samhain. My sister stepped up security in our department after the summer and then again after the Order's warning. Beyond the wards I helped with, I'm not exactly sure what she had done, however." He put his glasses back on and pushed them up the bridge of his nose. "It is all very hush-hush, but she's sympathetic to the Order and might be willing to tell us if we prove trustworthy." The seemingly young man went on after a moment, "Also, she has a few new leads on the summer incident. Artemis believes that she may have finally found the culprit who let the Death Eaters in and who helped them clear out the other workers so that they could move freely."

"Good, good. Thank you." Dumbledore rubbed his chin. "Minerva, Severus."

The Transfiguration professor graced him with a glance. "We've been watching the students closely, but none outside of Harry's group even seem to suspect that Hogwarts is a target. The Death Eater's children don't appear to be forewarned, not even the ones in the most danger, which worries me."

"Their parents' loyalties have always been to the Dark Lord above even their own offspring. Even those who are coerced into his service will not say anything," the Potions master stated darkly. "They know that there is a chance their children will be injured during the attack. Even killed. However, the Dark Lord will most assuredly harm them if they knew and gave it away."

Albus frowned sadly. "Have you had any luck on discovering what they are planning to send?"

Severus shook his head. "No, Dolohov has been very close-mouthed. He knows his life is on the line if he even gives any hints."

The headmaster processed the information. "Thank you, Severus, Minerva. To our next order of business, Halloween itself. Are there any questions regarding assignments?"

"Who's going where?" Dedalus Diggle asked. He shifted with nervousness.

"Mum and I are going to Hogwarts," Bill inserted with certainty. "We need to be there to look out for our family."

Diggle looked down his nose at the curse-breaker with the mention of his mother.

Molly nodded resolutely. "We'll definitely be at Hogwarts. The students need all the help they can get."

There was a faint snicker in the background.

"Me, too," Tonks put in and exchanged a glance with Kingsley. "I've been placed there on semi-permanent assignment. I'm to patrol and monitor the students, and Harry asked me to help out with his club some."

"Semi-permanent?" Charlie queried with a peculiar look on his face.

The metamorph shrugged. "Well, I've got to go home occasionally to sleep."

Minerva considered the reply. "We cleaned out a set of rooms for you, Nymphadora. Forgive me, but I forgot to mention it earlier. You can move in tonight if you like."

The female Auror looked pleased by the suggestion. "That'll be wonderful. I'll just nip back to my flat to get my things. Shall I meet you in the Entrance Hall at eleven?"

A gruff voice cut in the two women's conversation, "I'll be at the Ministry. Director Avis asked me to help set up stronger wards and Detection charms for some of their more **delicate** areas," Mad-Eye responded. His fake-eye was still whirling even with his present and trustworthy company.

Tonks poked Remus in the side and jerked her head in Moody's direction. "Which means that he'll conveniently be there when the Death Eaters raid the place," she added in a stage whisper with a surprisingly straight face, her neon-purple eyes dancing.

Moody didn't answer. Though the tips of his lips simply twitched as he fought a scarred grin.

"I'll be at the Ministry, too," Arthur responded.

Apollo nodded as well. "I'm on the schedule for that day," the Unspeakable added without pause.

Kingsley ran his hand over his bald head. "I'll definitely be there, though Amelia and I will probably be in meetings with Artemis all day."

Tonks snickered at him, and he gave her a wounded look.

Remus smiled at the Auror pair. "I'll be at the school. I actually plan to have Harry loan me his map; it has several features that I'm not sure he knows about."

"Albus, Severus, and I will obviously be at Hogwarts also. Along with the rest of the faculty," the Transfiguration teacher commented. "Almost everyone else including you, Dedalus, will be here. Waiting for news and going to assist if needed," she addressed the original question.

"Well, I knew that, Minerva," Diggle responded somewhat snidely in his high-pitched and normally excited voice. "Unlike some people, I'm above simple tasks. Am actually useful." His gaze lingered on the Weasley matriarch.

Minerva raised an eyebrow, an expression quite similar to another Hogwarts' faculty member. The same one who was currently glaring at the little man. Sybill and Molly also shot the annoying wizard dark looks.

"Well, you certainly fooled me," the Divination professor said smoothly.

Diggle opened his mouth to retort.

"If that is all, ladies and gentlemen," Dumbledore easily inserted himself into the dialogue before any else could comment. His eyes blazed with authority as he rose. "I do believe that this meeting is adjourned."

* * *

_Caput Voluneris_: Advanced Concussion curse. Verbal and non-verbal. Causes a severe concussion in the victim. Symptoms include prolonged confusion, brain swelling, unconsciousness, blurred vision, dizziness, and nausea. It has been known to cause permanent and extreme brain damage.

_Abrogarma_: Advanced Disarming charm. Verbal and non-verbal. Is resistant to many shields and is harder to block than _Expelliarmus_.

_Prometheum_: Advanced Flame hex. Non-verbal. Capable of setting fire to anything, water and ice included. It grows as it advances through the air, reaching a maximum length of between 20 to 40 meters.

_Espejo Mágico_: Magic Mirror. Verbal and non-verbal. Can both absorb and reflect almost any spell, despite its apparent size. The absorbed energy can be used to fuel additional counters. The smaller the physical manifestation of the shield, the more powerful.

_Ansante_: Breathless, Panting. Non-verbal. Blocks the lungs and trachea, preventing the victim from breathing.

_Aestuo Sangre_: Blood Boil. Verbal and non-verbal. Causes the blood of the victim to boil.

AN: I actually created a forum for any questions you guys and girls might have. Feel free to ask anything, though I will warn you that I will include spoilers to the story.

**Things to think about**: I know that I really haven't commented on it until this chapter, but things are not all happy-happy in Founder land right now, not even including their worries about Voldemort. There is some tension between the various members of their group, while others are getting along rather well. Also, Dobby is finally mentioned. I know I haven't said anything about him before this point, but that is because he has been away on assignment for Dumbledore. I will reveal more about that sub-plot in the second story.

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks.

Special thanks to Our Catholic Faith (online) for the Latin translation.

_Chapter __Twenty-Seven: No Rest for the Wicked_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**06/26/08**


	28. No Rest for the Wicked

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**_"_**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: No Rest for the Wicked**

**_Unknown, The Basement Corridor: October 29th, 1996_**

Bellatrix quietly crept down the hallway, praying that the Invisibility and Silencing spells laid on her would be enough to conceal her presence. Her boots were soundless on the stone floor as she stepped around a hidden, but still obvious to her, Tracker. Not wanting whoever had placed it to be notified of her presence. Further down the hallway, she sidestepped another, more cleverly concealed one. It would take more than a few Concealment, Chameleon, and Invisibility charms to fool her.

After all, she was a Black. And nobody knew more about keeping things hidden than her family, especially the things that they didn't want found. And just like her Cousin Sirius, she was excellent at the inverse, at discovering what others wanted unnoticed or forgotten.

Allowing herself a small smirk of satisfaction, Bella silently levitated herself over a low to the ground Proximity ward. It was quite clever of Dolohov to have that one so close to the floor, right where most people would never think to look. It was barely a foot high, and she could have easily stepped over it. Yet, she didn't want to take the chance of accidentally hitting it with her foot.

Landing lightly, she continued down the corridor dodging a few more carefully concealed wards and an assortment of spells. What she wouldn't give to be able to simply take a Portkey or Apparate to her location, but she couldn't do that due to the Dark Lord's warding.

Of course, Fawkes probably could have helped her, but the wards in this part of the manor were the absolute strongest, capable of tracking anyone who passed through and registering their magical signature. They simply couldn't take the risk that the phoenix would be detected. A stray Death Eater could be explained away, but a powerful being of pure magic could not.

The witch notice a doorway just ahead, and she slowed her already creeping pace. She cautiously approached, levitating herself over another low ward, and stepped to the side of it. Out of the line of fire as it were. It had taken her weeks and a good deal of help from Fawkes to puzzle out the location. And now, she was here.

It was a bit anticlimactic really.

She had expected more than a single debilitated door, one which hung limply, looking more like a raggedy doll than something meant to keep people out. In fact, it seemed as though the blasted thing would fall off its hinges at any moment.

But appearances were often deceiving. For all she knew, the door might have been strong enough to withstand dragonfire.

Silently berating herself for allowing her mind to wander, she squared her shoulders. Bella scanned the entrance with her wand, seeing that it remained unspelled; its appearance wasn't even due to an illusion. Dolohov had probably figured that by this point and after going through his gauntlet, only authorized people would be here. Nevertheless, he could have at least put some effort into protecting the room beyond.

But his loss was her gain, and he was only making her job easier.

She double and triple-checked the door, ensuring that her initial assent of it was accurate. With a flick, it opened silently, swinging forward to inaudibly hit the wall on the other side from her. She waited a few heartbeats just to make sure nothing came flying out before she stuck her wand around the edge and cast a relatively harmless Scanning charm.

Nothing was inside. Nothing alive at least.

Bella stilled as she watched the number on the spell continue to rise as the Scanner went deeper into the room, dispelling it before it was even finished. Bile rising in her throat, she cast a spell for light and entered. She halted just inside the entrance, too stunned to move forward, though she did have enough sense to close the door behind her.

They were… just standing there, sightless eyes simply staring at her. They were in rows, mutely standing and awaiting instruction, not moving until they received it.

Swallowing her revulsion, she silent darted to one several rows deep. Dolohov would be less likely to check the spells on any but the ones in the very front, secure in the knowledge that his magic would hold and that no one could possibly tamper with it. Bellatrix approached cautiously, carefully not looking up into the ashen face. The witch softly murmured in an ancient and almost forgotten language, passing her wand over the thing in front of her. It began to glow slightly, the magic inherent in it rearranging itself to suit her will.

A moment passed, and she stopped whispering. The glow lingered for an instant longer before fading into nothingness. The woman nodded to herself and moved to the next one, only to repeat the process.

Sometime later, Bella refused to take a break, even with sweat dotting at her brow. She was just now reaching the end of the row, and they extended both in front of her and behind her farther than her eye could see in the darkened chamber. She had hoped to have longer to hinder the spells on them, but she had less than a day now. With that little time, only a fraction could be disabled, not that Dolohov would even be able to tell by the time she was finished.

Bellatrix Black was a master at hiding things, and her magic would go undetected until it was far too late. And with just a flick of her wand, these monstrosities would be down for the count, completely left out of the battle. She would just have to wait for the right opportunity and not do it too soon.

The witch repressed the urge to place her hand on her heavily protected and enspelled belly, pausing momentarily in her casting.

It wouldn't do for her to get caught helping the students; she had more than herself to think of now, but she would do all that she could. After all, she owed it to Sirius.

She owed it to Harry.

Her resolve even more affirmed, Bellatrix return to her casting. There was so little time and so very much to do.

* * *

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Trelawney's Tower, The Balcony: October 30th, 1996_**

Draco gazed out over the distance, watching as the sun sunk slowly in the sky. A faint breeze tugged at his hair as he put his elbows on the railing, resting his head on his hands. He noticed several students laughingly stroll into the castle, watching as two girls teased their friend. He turned his head to the side and noted Hagrid walk over to his hut, turning in for the night. He glanced back and saw the giant squid splash in the water, silently wondering if the school's guardian would have a role to play tomorrow.

He shivered; he wondered what roles all of them would play. Would things go as they planned, as they hoped? Would they successfully defend the school, their home? Would the students be harmed? Would they even survive? Would it all come crashing down around their ears?

The Prefect exhaled slowly at the thought, his worry building. He shook his head to dissolve his thoughts.

They refused to leave.

Things had been going so well until this point, and he couldn't understand why he would pick this moment of all others to fall apart. Dumbledore and the rest of the Order knew of the attack and had made preparations. Though the headmaster was now watching his Defense teacher like hawk. That is, if a hawk could grin jovially with a twinkle in his eye and make it seem like he wasn't really looking at all.

The Founders had double and triple-checked the defenses of the castle, making sure all the suits of armor, ghosts, and portraits knew what they were supposed to do. The wards were sound and would give them ample warning. The castle was positively buzzing with tension, as wide-awake and aware as she could possibly be.

They were ready. As ready as they could ever be.

Weasleby was even now recovering, the glazed look in his eyes disappearing slowly.

"Not that it would ever go away entirely," Draco mumbled to himself with a faint snort.

Ron's parents, brother, and sister were so relieved it was almost palpable. Molly was practically glowing with happiness, and Arthur and Bill both seemed like a heavy weight had been lifted. Ginny, who had been acting rather snarky lately, had actually been seen smiling… really smiling during one of the Founders' little get-togethers. It was a rather nice improvement over the usual glare she wore during those, the expression mostly directed at Dominic.

A slight shiver went up Draco's spine at the thought of the vampire, and he hastily diverted his mind to other things.

Neville was doing brilliantly in class now. He past memories bringing him up to a level of confidence that even the Department of Mysteries hadn't been able to do. The bloody fiasco and his new wand had done wonders for him. Neville did have to be rather careful of the sheer amount of easily accessible magic he now had though. Nevertheless, he was doing an admirable job, aided and abetted by Minerva and Severus, of all people.

He was even talking to Draco now, being rather amiable and forgiving the Slytherin for things he hadn't even apologized for. Harry and Luna actually spoke to him, too, but he didn't really get to see much of them due to their schedules.

Things were simply going wonderfully for the blond. He had become even closer to Severus in the past month, spending an enormous amount of his free time with the man. Most of it was going over plans and checking over Hogwarts, but they were still together. Plus, he was on friendly speaking terms with both Minerva and Hermione now, too. The Transfiguration professor no longer scowled at him in class. Not that she had really done much of that this year, though she had given him some rather odd and searching glances.

As for Hermione… well, the part of his free time that wasn't taken up with the other Slytherins, the other Founders, and the DA was now spent with her in one of the hidden rooms of the castle. One with a lot of books and a very handy potions lab.

It was strange being with his sibling again after sixteen years of not having one. But he was adjusting, and he found that he actually liked trying to reconcile her with his present. It was nice to have someone to connect with.

He had had a lonely childhood this time around, his birth parents always far too busy to spend time with him and with only the house-elves to keep him company in the big, lonely manor. There had been almost a complete lack of human contact outside of sporadic visits from other, **proper** magical children and the odd times his parents spent with him, which had mostly been going to social functions. It wasn't until the year before he went to Hogwarts that he'd actually begun to make friends, and that was only after his mother had started bringing over more children to visit. Draco had a sneaking suspicion that his old minder, Dobby, had something to do with it, too.

Now, he not only had friends and comrades, he had a sister. One who actually seemed to like him.

All things considered, his life was going pretty well. So what could possibly be bothering him?

He rubbed his hand over his face tiredly, fighting the urge to nimble on his nails. It was a nasty habit, and one he had thought he had grown out of in both of his lifetimes. Still, it was something that often made an appearance when he was nervous or jittery.

His fingers tried to drift to his mouth again, and the Prefect all but slammed it down on the stone railing, gritting his teeth at the impact. He quietly shook his hand, trying to make the pain go away.

What by Circe was his problem?

Maybe it was because this was it. Their moment was approaching on phoenix wings. By this time tomorrow, the battle would be upon them. It would be here, at their front gate.

And Draco had this sinking feeling that they weren't ready, that they were going to lose… and lose badly. They hadn't had enough time. They needed longer.

They had only remembered a month ago. A month was not long enough to adjust, to cope, to reconcile their pasts with their present. It wasn't long enough for him to even wrap his mind around how his world had changed, how fundamentally bollocksed up his life currently was. It wasn't long enough for anything, much less enough to use their memories and come up with a way to save not only the school but the Ministry. And hell, the entire bloody wizarding world!

But it would have to be. They were out of time.

Draco fought the urge to pound his fist on the stone railing again. Knowing that a broken hand was the thing he needed the least right now, even if the nurse could fix it in a flash. Besides, he didn't want to explain how it had happened. Pomfrey was a stickler for things like that. Further, he knew Sybill was there at the moment, talking with her friend.

Who would have thought the no-nonsense nurse and the flighty Divination professor shared a mutual admiration for, of all things, Goblin checkers? Or that they had built a very solid, albeit very bizarre, friendship around it?

The Slytherin grimaced and turned his attention back to the brilliantly colored sky. It truly was a breathtaking view, even after all these years. He idly wished Hermione was there with him; Rhayne always did love the sunset.

However, she was probably off with Bill somewhere. Enjoying the calm before the storm or the last step before the plunge. Or whatever strange metaphor she was thinking of at the moment. That girl did think of rather odd things. It was Aunt Siobhan and Aunt Fiona's influence, he just knew it. They had been her favorite relatives.

Draco began to wonder where everyone else was.

Arthur and Molly were undoubtedly together, probably at their house, the Bungalow. Or was it Burrow? Harry and Luna were undoubtedly in the Room of Requirement, and he didn't even want to think about what they were doing. Severus was definitely with Minerva. Neville was in the Sorting Hat's room, and Draco had no idea where Ginny and Dominic were.

At the thought of the Defense teacher, the Slytherin stiffened.

It was silly. He shouldn't have such a reaction to a simple sentence. He shouldn't still be pondering it, trying to puzzle out what the man had actually meant. Still, even weeks later, the vampire's cutting words still haunted him.

"_And maybe that will be enough to save you_."

Would it? Would anything they'd done be enough to save him? Would it be enough to save everyone else, those he cared about?

The other Slytherins? His friends? Severus? Hermione?

As if conjured by the thought, the Prefect heard the sound of footsteps and the rustle of robes behind him. There was a cough, as if someone was trying to get his attention. Nevertheless, he simply continued to watch the lake, smiling gently.

He didn't even need to turn around; he already knew who it was.

"I knew I'd find you here," Hermione stated somewhat smugly as she came up beside him. "You always did love this place the first time around, even if Aunt Helga constantly scolded you for sitting on the railing.

Draco smirked. "And as you can see, I finally got the message." He gestured with his head. "I'm not sitting on it." He nonchalantly leaned even further forward, almost hanging half-off.

She eyed him skeptically. "True. It's an improvement, but it certainly took you long enough. And even now, you risk falling off."

"I'm slowly weaning myself," he replied flippantly. "Small and slow steps, sister dear." The Slytherin briefly and silently thanked Sybill for letting him relax on the hidden balcony of her tower. At least here, his sister and he could talk and find solace from prying eyes.

She sniffed. "If you were any slower, you'd be going backwards."

Draco smirked but didn't respond to the jibe, and the pair lapsed into silence. The bushy-haired witch watched him out of the corner of her eye. But she remained quiet, not saying anything at all and simply fingering her phoenix pendant. Draco knew something was bothering her, but he was going to give her time to get around to it on her own. Yet, he wasn't going to give her too long. He had someone he needed to see before the day slipped by completely.

More moments passed. Hermione continued to look at him, but this time, her eyes flickered between the lake and him. The blond surreptitiously looked at his watch and frowned. He was almost to the point of asking her to get on with it when she finally spoke.

"So you're really going to fight tomorrow, Draco?" the witch asked, her gaze drifting from the grounds to him. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the sun sinking over the water in the distance.

He nodded fiercely, leaning against the railing. "I'm going to fight for my family."

A warmth filled her at his declaration. "Your family?" She watched at him for a moment before finally voicing the thought that she had wanted to say all along, "What about Narcissa and Lucius? We know that your mother at least will be among the Death Eaters sent."

Draco avoided her eye, watching as the sun disappeared beyond the lake. "I'll still fight; that won't stop me." He laughed then, and it was a bitter sound. "I fear that they are lost to me, if I ever had them at all," he whispered more to himself than to her. He wrapped his cloak further around him at the sudden chill in the air.

Hermione was taken aback. She had always thought the Malfoys a close clan.

"But they love you, Draco. At least, they did. I'm not sure about now…" she trailed off and shook her head. "Regardless, they at least felt something for you. Don't you remember? They would always spoil you, buy you anything you wanted. They love you so very much. Perhaps too much," she allowed, trying to make a joke of it, but it fell flat.

"And that is where you are wrong, sister." He deliberately named their connection and leaned closer to her. "That is where you are so very wrong." Draco sighed then, running a hand through his hair. "They didn't love me too much. They never loved me enough."

Hermione blinked but remained silent.

"That's the problem." He turned towards her. "Why else do you think they spoiled me? They felt guilty. They felt guilty for not caring deeply enough about me. They were trying to make it up to me." He trembled with suppressed emotion, a lifetime's worth of bitterness rising up in him.

Her eyes widened a fraction. She opened her mouth to speak but quickly shut it. There wasn't anything she could really say to that. He had said nothing but the truth.

Draco inhaled slowly, glancing away. "Severus has always been far more of a father than Lucius ever was," he murmured and closed his eyes.

Hermione instinctively reached over to take his hand, and he didn't pull away.

"That's including the distance he had to keep to protect his other Slytherins," the blond continued, noticing that the stars were slowly appearing in the sky. "He always supported me, protected me. Even from myself."

Her fingers squeezed his.

"And Minerva… We aren't close, but there is still a connection, one that is growing and that I am determined to strengthen." Draco gave a little, bitter smile. "Even factoring in the last few years, she's already been better to me than Narcissa."

Hermione didn't know what to say. She really hadn't expected that answer.

"I… I'm sorry."

He gave an elegant shake of his head. "Don't be. It's not like it is your fault. We just have to make the most of the cards we are dealt, and it's as though I suffered too much for it," the Slytherin added softly. "Parents who don't care enough are better than not having any at all." Draco stood up straight.

Hermione turned away. "I wouldn't be so sure," she replied, her face unreadable.

However, Draco didn't hear her. He had moved away from the railing and was using the faint light coming from the door to look at his watch. Why he didn't simply use his wand was beyond her.

The blond nodded absentmindedly to himself before turning around. "Come on, let's go," he said and held his hand out to her. "You need to spend some time with Bill."

She shivered due to the cool evening breeze. "What about you? I am not just going to leave you alone, not tonight."

He raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you think I would be?" The Slytherin chuckled at her disbelieving look. "I won't be alone." Draco paused, gaze shifting away from hers. "I have somewhere to be." He led her to the door. "Somewhere important."

* * *

**_Hogwarts, Various Locations: The Same Day_**

Dumbledore quietly sat in his office at his desk with his heads in his hands. Fawkes was perched directly in front of him, cooing softly and rubbing his finely plumed head on Albus' cheek. The various instruments in the room buzz, squeaked, or hummed without notice. The portraits of the old headmasters and mistresses were either snoring or talking quietly amongst themselves, shooting occasional worried looks at their living counterpart.

After a few moments, the phoenix began to sing, his voice rising into a crescendo. The elderly man let out a sigh of relief but did not lift his head. Instead, he merely closed his eyes, breathing easier than a moment before. Albus finally rose but not before gently caressing the phoenix and giving a whispered thanks. He drifted to a side door, intent on his bedroom and resting his tired body. The old man's mind was blessedly blank as he changed and pulled back the covers. However, as he lay in bed, his mind was filled with random but not so troubling thoughts.

Just as sleep claimed him, he briefly wondered what the others were doing with their last moments together.

On the third floor, Tonks sat quietly on the edge of Dom's desk, her eyes flickering speculatively to the cards in front of her. She looked first at one card and then another, thinking it over. The cards, in turn, stared straight back at her. One was grinning serenely, occasionally patting down her reddish-brown braid. The other simply scowled, arms crossed over his chest defensively. Had his foot been visible, the Auror would have seen it being tapped impatiently.

Across from her, the Defence professor was studying each of his cards in turn. He rubbed his hand over his chin as he picked one out. Dominic looked at her, eyes roving over her appreciatively, and smiled wickedly before putting his card on the desk. It featured a short mage in blue, whose face was completely obscured by a combination of his pointed hat and high collar.

Tonks frowned at it and surveyed her cards again.

The grumpy one finally had enough. "Get one with it, woman," he demanded, shaking his fist at her. "Honestly, we don't have all day."

The Auror shot him a glare, and he quieted. Dom simply chuckled to himself, and her frown deepened. However, the irate card had apparently gotten his point across, for she finally selected him and laid him down on the table.

"How about a Moebius Nigellus for your Vivi Ornitier?" she asked and tucked a stray strand of violent, violet hair behind her ear. She inclined her head to Dom's Chocolate Frog Card.

He seemed to be thinking about it. "Done."

The vampire reached forward for his new acquisition, fingers brushing and lingering on hers as she did the same. Their hands halted, and they paused before smiling at each other and continuing on their way.

He pocketed his disgruntled card, which hissed at him menacingly. Dom selected another, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"Dalamar Nightson for your Aeris Gainsborough?"

Just a floor below, Severus and Minerva were curled up on her sofa. He was situated in the corner with one arm propped up on the arm. Her head was on his shoulder, and his arms circled her as he casually held up the book they were reading together.

They sat in complete silence, simply enjoying each other's company. And the only sounds that interrupted their peace were the crackling of the fire and the occasional soft, swish of paper as he turned the page.

No words were need. The silence and their comfort with each other spoke loudly enough.

In the Gryffindor Common Room, the two youngest Weasleys scowled at each other from across the chessboard. Ron stuck his tongue between his teeth, lost in thought. His gaze darted across the board, and he combed a nervous hand through his hair. After a minute, he nudged his remaining knight with his forefinger. The piece automatically moved to the place he had in mind without further prompting.

"Checkmate!" he exclaimed proudly, beaming at his opponent.

Ginny practically snarled at him and placed her hands on her hips. "It's not checkmate," she stated sternly, but the playful glint in her eyes belied her fierce tone. We're playing by Goblin rules. Only bishops and queens can checkmate."

Ron's eyes narrowed. "We are not. You never said that." He gestured to the board. "So therefore, I win." He again smiled.

His sister shook her finger at him. "You're trying to cheat. It won't work. We agreed on Goblin rules." Her voice rose.

"I am not cheating!" the older redhead defended himself stridently. "We never agreed on that."

"Did, too. You're just pretending to have forgotten," she accused, her voice becoming louder. "It isn't a valid move."

"Is, too."

"Is not."

"Is, too."

From the sidelines, Athena merely laughed to herself as the pair argued over the validity of the last move. There had been some tension over the last few months between them, and they had both been acting rather strangely. It was good to see them back to their old selves, even if they were rather loud.

Another Weasley, a slightly older one, sat in a different room of Hogwarts Castle. Bill flipped the page in his book, scanning it quickly before flipping again. He chewed on his lip, becoming more and more put out as he went. The curse-beaker had been searching for hours now and still hadn't found anything. Initially, his hopes about a counter for the Killing curse had been so hopeful, but he hadn't found any new information for weeks. Not even Hogwarts' various libraries, both for student use and otherwise, seemed to hold anything useful.

Giving a disgruntled sigh, he closed the book and set it down with a muffled thump. The redhead briefly eyed the stack of other ones that were lying in front of them. He was rather reluctant to take another, but he did after a few seconds. Bill had just begun to read when something odd occurred to him; he hadn't heard Hermione make a peep for awhile now. He glanced over to the side, and what he saw made him chuckle silently.

The curse-breaker leaned forward to brush her hair from her face, which was partially lying on her opened book. He smoothed back a stray strand from her normally bright eyes, which were currently closed. She sniffed when he brushed her nose accidentally, but her breathing remained soft and constant. She didn't even stir when he pressed a kiss to first her forehead and then her lips.

Hermione was too deep asleep to even notice what he was doing.

In the Sorting Hat's room, Draco Malfoy and Neville Longbottom sat quietly. Each one was lost in thought.

"I'm sorry, you know," the blond said at last, breaking the silence that had lingered between them for countless minutes.

Neville seemed confused. "For what?" He inclined his head to listen better.

The Prefect shifted in his seat. "For being a complete git for the last six years and for all those things I said. Especially about your parents." He purposely looked Neville in the eye as he spoke.

"Oh, that." The Gryffindor eyed him, his round face completely neutral. "I forgave you awhile ago. After we had our memories back." He added so softly that Draco didn't hear, "Maybe even before then."

"I had guessed, but I still needed to say it," Draco asserted hesitantly, daring to look away from the other wizard. His attention drifted to the portrait on the far wall, who was listening in with a grin on his face.

"Okay, then," Neville added pleasantly. "It's good that we got that out of the way. We can now move onto more important things."

It was Draco's turn to be confused. "Like what?"

A grin tugged at Neville's lips. "Like what you think of the Harpies chances this year. Personally, I think they'll go all the way."

In the Room of Requirement, Harry and Luna were side by side on the magically induced meadow. Both were facing the sky, a carbon-copy of the one outside, the stars twinkling like mad above them. The wizard was lying down, his hands pillowing his head. His girlfriend, on the other hand, was sitting cross-legged and playing with the fireflies that buzzed around them.

"You know," Harry said as he closed his eyes, "if anyone were to walk in right now, they would get completely the wrong idea." He shifted his head to a more comfortable position so that it wouldn't make his arms fall asleep.

Luna commented, "I had thought of that, but I don't think it really matters. Hogwarts would warn us long before anyone showed up, not that she'd let them in." Her hands threaded through the soft grass.

"Unless it was one of the other Founders," the reborn Salazar countered, "and they'd still get the wrong idea." Harry rolled over and propped his head up on his fist.

"And what idea would that be, Mr. Potter?" she asked coyly, leaning down so that her face was inches from his.

He gave her a disbelieving look. "We're sitting in the middle of a magical meadow under the starlight. What do you think they'd believe?"

"That we were having a romantic rendezvous." She playfully tapped his nose.

"And are we?"

Luna snorted before leaning forward to kiss him.

Harry raised an eyebrow as they broke apart sometime later, his girlfriend now lying beside him with her head over his rapidly beating heart. "I guess we are."

* * *

**_Great Britain, Various Locations: October 31st, 1996_**

Situated between Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, there was a not-so-empty meadow, filled with not-quite-alive people. Only three of the dozens, possibly hundreds, could actually be counted among the living. But only one of them seemed truly bothered by this fact. And not for the reasons the others would imagine.

Bellatrix Black stifled the rising nausea in her belly as she attempted to recover from a combination of a Portkey and her current company. She trembled faintly, but neither Narcissa nor Dolohov noticed. The pair was too engrossed in making last minute checks.

There was a rush of magic. And another, far larger group of Death Eaters appeared, joining their comrades. Bellatrix lowered her wand, which she had raised as soon as she felt the air shift, and bid them to help Dolohov.

Apparently satisfied, the man gave the all clear several moments later. Bella squared herself internally and nodded, gesturing that he should go ahead. Without a backwards glance, Dolohov flicked his wand and magically ordered his abominations to follow.

The two women trailed after him, not daring to look over their shoulders, with the rest following behind. Narcissa firmly situated her mask on her face as she walked and spelled her hood to remain on her head, obscuring her golden-blonde hair. Her face became even more lifeless, cold eyes the only thing now visible. She looked just as dead as the monstrosities that were trailing behind them.

Bellatrix was forced to look away, securing her own mask. Her gaze didn't stray to her younger sister again. She had a fleeting thought of a girl with a beautiful smile and a musical laugh, who begged her sisters to come play with her. It was followed by another that featured the same small girl, creeping into the room of her older sibling in the dead of night, begging her to chase off the monsters under the bed.

Bella fiercely shook her head to dissolve the images. She didn't want to think of what her once bright and loving sister had been. Or what she had become. Narcissa was now more of a monster than the ones she had feared.

The three lead Death Eaters crested over the small hill they had been climbing, pausing at the top. The man shook with a mixture of nervous energy and bloody anticipation. He lifted his head defiantly before continuing forward. Narcissa merely looked on impassively, her body seemingly devoid of life. She followed in the Dolohov's wake. The last one shivered, lagging behind. She hesitantly pulled a pendant from her pocket and tapped it with her wand, lighting it up as she headed down the hill.

Behind her mask, Bella's eyes flickered from Dolohov to her sister to the castle that loomed in front of them. A deep sense of dread filled the pit of her stomach, and her skinned crawled at the approaching presence of Dolohov's creations. In the deep and hidden part of her heart, she dearly hoped that what she dreaded would not come to pass.

Elsewhere, Tom Riddle smiled to himself, eliciting a shudder from his surrounding subordinates. That particular smile always meant that someone was going to bleed, suffer, or die. Perhaps all three.

"Good, Rookwood. Now, take your team and go. You know what to do," the Dark Lord bid with a flick of his fingers, turning back to the not-so-intimidating doors in front of him.

His follower obeyed instantly and bowed lowly before hurrying away, his lackeys in tow.

The Dark Lord casually twirled his wand as he pulled out a pendant from one of his pockets. His remaining Death Eaters nervously twitched behind him as they waited for the signal, but he didn't seem to notice. A Ministry wizard, who was staring at some nameless report, walked by without even seeing the group of people standing in the shadows by the door. A few paper airplanes whizzed by, one nearly colliding with McNair's head. It was almost as if it hadn't even registered that he was there.

The pendant lit up brightly a few moments later, but Tom still didn't move. He simply continued to twirl his wand. In the distance, there was the sound of an alarm and the whispers of several dozen pairs of feet as they pounded across the floor. There was a flurry of activity. And a number of people rushed right by, once again not even noticing the cloaked Death Eaters, shrouded as they were by a myriad of spells.

The excitement finally faded away, and all was silent.

Finally, the Dark Lord stirred, pocketing the still shining pendant. He opened the door with a wave of his hand, and his servants followed him in. He sauntered down an empty corridor, his Death Eaters opening every door that they passed and glancing inside.

There was no one. No one at all. It was as if the entire department was empty, disserted.

Voldemort's smile widened.

* * *

Tracker: a passive enchantment used to keep track of who passes through a certain area and when. Mostly used to supplement other wards.

AN: I know that there was no Molly and Arthur section, but they weren't at Hogwarts. I just couldn't make the scene fit in with the rest of them. Also, the Sybill and Poppy scene didn't make the cut, but Draco mentioned that the two were probably visiting, read drinking.

And there was a minor attack of the fluff, but that couldn't be helped.

**Things to think about**: What exactly is going to attack the castle? I think you should have a pretty good idea by this point. What is going to happen in the next chapter? Who will win? Who will lose? Who will just die?

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks!

_Chapter __Twenty-Eight: Here, There be Monsters, Part One_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**06/26/08**


	29. Here, There be Monsters, Part One

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

**_"_**_**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

The chapter is dedicated to _Nightmarish_, who wrote a really cool Harry/Draco one-shot.

**  
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Here, There be Monsters, Part One**

**_Department of Mysteries, Various Locations: October 31st, 1996 (Evening)_**

Thaddeus Nott wiped away a bead of sweat, exhaling quietly. With a flick of his wand, he quickly ensured that the Chameleon charm on him was still functioning properly. His eyes darted around, searching for all the others hidden along the corridor he was currently standing in. Intently, he noted the fifteen additional Death Eaters, who were positioned at variable increments throughout the hallway, stationed in the few cubby holes and darkened spots. Nott allowed a small but dark smile to grace his face, even as he wiped at his forehead again, shivering with anticipation. He gave a silent prayer of thanks to Salazar that the pendants Rookwood and he had spelled worked properly, allowing him to actually see the other assembled Death Eaters, in spite of their own Invisibility spells.

When he had first learned of his mission, it had seemed to be easy enough. All he had to do was ensure that the only entrance to the Department of Mysteries remained protected and to keep out any reinforcements that appeared. With all the Concealment spells layered onto both he and his underlings, it would be nearly impossible for their presence to be detected until to far too late. If anyone even noticed they were there at all. They would just keep by the sole entrance, cursing all who went by, while cloaked by the very shadows of the dimly lit corridor.

It would be like taking advantage of a Hufflepuff first-year, so incredibly simple. Not even Bellatrix could have planned this better.

However, what Nott didn't know, what he couldn't possibly know was about the new wards Director Avis and Alastor Moody had added to the department. And they were such wonderful wards, too. Such as the one that allowed the Unspeakables to know the exact number of people currently within their area. Or the one that prevented those without a special pass from Apparating. Or the one that disabled all Portkeys save those with the director's unique magical seal on them.

Yet, those weren't even the best of the defenses. Truthfully, Artemis Avis favored one of her new protections more than the others. She just loved the ward that when activated negated all Invisibility spells, Concealment charms, and anything else of a similar nature. In fact, this particular ward was so powerful that even Dumbledore and the Dark Lord himself would have problems overriding it.

And this very ward would be the downfall of the Death Eaters' plans. It seemed that it wasn't always so easy to exploit Hufflepuffs, especially one like Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody. They were loyal and hardworking, but like their Founder, that didn't mean they were stupid.

Nott shifted from foot to foot, his eyes drifting half-closed with a hint of boredom. He casually leaned against the wall, attempting to find a comfortable position and missing the sound of fabric sweeping across the floor. His job may be easy, but that didn't mean it wasn't just as tedious as a lecture from Binns.

Unbeknownst to him, however, the monotony would be rather short lived.

Just as he was becoming comfortable, Nott felt a rush of magic sweep over him. There was a yelp followed by a muffled thump down the corridor. He jolted, suddenly wide-awake, and half-turned just in time to see one of his recruits take a Stunner to the chest. Belatedly, he realized that the hallway around him was unexpectedly a great deal more crowded than it should be. And scattered throughout the corridor, there was a group of no less than ten Aurors and Unspeakables. It was led by none other than the infamous Mad-Eye Moody himself.

Nott snarled and moved to tap his pendant in order to alert his lord to the ambush. But an unexpected jinx hit him, and he felt the bones in his left hand shatter. His fingers went limp, the pendant dropping to the floor. The man whirled to face his attacker, snarling when he noticed exactly who it was.

"Ah, my favorite Death Eater," Moody said with a twisted grin, shooting a spell with every other word and causing the younger man to repeatedly sidestep. The Order member swiftly used the distraction to destroy the pendant.

"Give it up, old man," Nott spat back, casting his own curse in return. "You were no match for me then. And you're sure as Circe not one for me now."

Moody smirked, obviously knowing something the other man didn't. "You cost me my eye, Nott. And this time, you won't be getting away or saying that it was all due to _Imperius_." He flicked his wand and shot a Blasting hex at the Death Eater, who barely ducked out of the way.

However, a stray spell came at the ex-Auror, and he was forced to dodge, losing his original target in the fray. The grizzled, old man sent a hex back and was soon engaged in an all out duel with not one but two other Death Eaters. And it was for that very reason that Moody failed to notice a third step around to flank him

Nott moved into position, flicking his wand to hex Mad-Eye from behind. However, a burst of yellow light rushed at him from the left, and he was forced to duck. The Death Eater briefly glanced to the side, trying to determine where the curse had come from. And it was an action that he would regret for the rest of his life. All five seconds of it.

Unfortunately for him, it was at that very moment that Alastor Moody whirled to the side, a brilliant flash passing within inches of his head. The curse continued on its merry way, despite the fact it had just gone by its intended target. It whizzed through the air, missing an Unspeakable by a narrow margin.

Scowling to himself, Thaddeus Nott turned back around, only to catch the spell full in the face. The last thing he ever saw was a bright, green light and a sweeping rush of death.

Elsewhere, Augustus Rookwood smirked to himself, coming up to a bare stretch of wall. He tapped his wand across it in an intricate pattern, and a doorway suddenly appeared where there had been none before. Without even glancing behind him, the pockmarked Death Eater entered, the rest of his team following in his wake. He lightly stepped through the surprisingly well-lit corridor, his dragonhide boots not even clicking on the stone.

Rookwood came to a crossroads and took a left without pausing to think it over. He uneasily fingered his cedar wand, a hint of foreboding crawling up his spine. Nonetheless, he ignored it and led his team further into the passageway, exceptionally thankful that they would at least be able to avoid that bedamned spinning room. How he loathed the blasted thing and his former boss all the more for creating it. But then, he had gotten his revenge on Revan in the end. Even now, the Unspeakables were still finding bits and pieces of him scattered throughout the department.

A sick sneer tugged at his lips, but there was hint of remorse to it. "_Sic Semper_ _Proditoris_: Thus Always to Traitors," Augustus murmured to himself as he unerringly passed another crossroads, eliciting a questioning glance from Edgecombe.

Rookwood shot the curly-headed woman a glare. She immediately looked away, but the damage had already been done. She had seen him in his moment of weakness, and he certainly didn't like it.

Growling, the lead Death Eater finally came to the end of the passageway, and with a wave of his wand, he discreetly checked what was on the other side of the wall. Seemingly pleased, Rookwood forced the exit into existence and walked out, his faithful lackeys following him. Some of them, the newest of the new, even smiled when they noted their surroundings.

Rookwood, however, was not pleased by their reactions. "Fan out!" he commanded and gave the oldest MacMillan heir a very pointed look. "Check everything before you touch it. There's no telling what kind of protections are layered on."

Thankfully, everyone obeyed his orders, separately moving throughout the large room. A few of them went to the central displays, carefully looking through the enspelled glass to the objects within. Others wandered over to the walls or the shelves, scanning through the assorted objects, artifacts, and books. Even more went to the exits, securing them before turning to help their fellows.

Rookwood looked after them for a moment before going to his own task. He confidently strolled over to a particular section of the wall, and he tapped a complicated code on the bare patch between two moving tapestries. There was a shimmer of magic, and a man-sized hole instantly appeared. The former Unspeakable grunted to himself in satisfaction, pleased that even after all these years he still remembered the combination to the vault. Or perhaps he was simply laughing over the fact that they hadn't changed it.

Regardless, the man stepped into the windowless room, his gaze tracing along the walls and looking for traps. He didn't find any, so he simply continued inside and to the very back of the room, ignoring the swords and shields that lined the walls and the ancient grimoires and scrolls on the short bookshelves. He stepped up to the display next to the far side, searching through the case present. His eyes drifted over enchanted daggers and a few filled potion vials, among several other things.

Minutes soon passed, and Rookwood was starting to become antsy. It wasn't there; he couldn't find it anywhere, and it was supposed to be here. This was the most secure area within the entire room, within the entire department most likely. Salazar Slytherin's ancient staff was impossible to miss, even in its shrunken state. It just had to be here. It couldn't be anywhere else.

Fighting down his sudden urge to panic, the Death Eater carefully passed his wand over the case in a parody of a gentle gesture. He cast several Scanning spells, attempting to determine if it was merely disguised. Even more time flew by, and the results of his search only served to incense him more.

The pockmarked man chewed on his lip, working it between his teeth. He heard a thump in the background but didn't bother to turn around. It was probably just one of the new recruits anyway. They were all fools, so it wouldn't surprise him in the slightest if they had knocked one of the precious and priceless ancient relics from the shelves. Even better, perhaps they had hit one of themselves in the process.

There was another strange sound in the background, and the former Unspeakable rolled his eyes at the idiocy of the people he was working with. Why did he have to be the one to babysit the newest recruits? Why couldn't it be Bellatrix? She was certainly good with keeping their lord entertained, so why not the little wankers, too?

Around the time there was a third bizarre noise, Rookwood sighed and lifted his head, debating with himself over the fact that he was in charge versus his desire to fulfill his master's orders. Eventually, he merely rolled his eyes and went back to his task, his gaze again roving about.

"You won't find it there," a voice to the side stated evenly.

Rookwood whirled around, a curse on his lips. But it died a quick death as he faltered. Augustus couldn't help it; he gaped.

Apollo Avis, brother of the director and her top lieutenant, was standing directly in front of him.

Mindful of the situation, Rookwood quickly snapped his jaw shut, steeling his face. Yet, the brunet merely winked at him from behind his glasses, an odd smile on his youngish looking face. He absentmindedly fingered his wand, even as he took a determined step forward.

"Hello, old friend," Apollo said, his calm voice belying the rage that was clearly present in his eyes. "Fancy seeing you here. Last I heard, you were a convicted Death Eater on the run from the law."

Out of the corner of his eye, the former Unspeakable noticed a hint of red, and he angled his body to keep both his former friend and the newcomer in sight. Rookwood blanched slightly when he noticed who it was, and a flash of some nameless emotion crossed his face. However, it was gone in an instant. And once more, he donned his icy mask.

"Oh, you remember Arthur. Don't you, Augustus?" Apollo went on in a pleasant tone, nodding to the new arrival. "You should, especially considering he was our roommate for seven years and friend for even longer. You were even an usher at his wedding," he added in an afterthought, seemingly unconcerned by the Death Eater in front of him.

Rookwood remained silently, unsure of what to say. His attention darted between the two men, and his hand squeezed his wand hard enough to cause the wood to groan and his knuckles to turn white. He quivered, but he wasn't sure if it was from surprise or something else entirely.

"I can't say it is a pleasure to see you again, especially given the circumstances," Arthur cut in, and the redhead gave a cold look. "I still can't believe it, even looking at you now. After all these years." He shook his head mournfully. "You betrayed us; you betrayed your friends."

The pockmarked man sneered, apparently finally having had enough. "You wouldn't understand, blood traitor." He spat at them. "Both of you betrayed your heritage, and for what? A pat on the back from the great Dumbledore himself? To win over a girl who would barely even look at you in the first place? To stop being overshadowed by your twin sister?"

Arthur bit out with frustration, "We didn't betray anyone!"

Apollo sniffed in agreement. "No, that's your bit, Augustus." He snorted derisively. "You want to know why we sided with Albus, do you? We did it because it's the right thing to do. We did it because we wanted to be more than just Muggle-torturers, who groveled before a monster and received nothing but _Cruciatus_ for their efforts!"

The former Unspeakable looked like he had been slapped. Rookwood's nostrils flared, and he trembled with suppressed anger. He took a step forward, forgetting himself for a moment.

"You wouldn't understand our reasons, Rookwood, because you're a nothing more than a Death Eater," the Weasley patriarch all but snarled a second later, but he instantly sobered. "As such, it is my duty to turn you in. Regardless of whatever past acquaintance we might have had," Arthur said calmly.

The words had barely left his mouth when twin flashes of red light leapt out of both his and Apollo's wands. The spells raced at Rookwood, who hastily put up a shield. The Death Eater immediately returned fire, sending a Concussion hex at his former friends, strangely aiming to wound and not to kill.

And with that, the battle was on.

Just a few corridors away, Tom Riddle smiled. His serpentine eyes gazed down at the archway in the center of the room, and he idly watched as the attached veil fluttered in a non-existent breeze. He quietly stepped closer, his head cocked to the side, as though he were listening to something that no one else could hear. Without hesitation, he took another step and another and then even more until he was standing five feet from the raised dais. Yet, during the entire silent descent, he didn't utter a single word, not even a sound. The Dark Lord merely listened, his eyes drifting half-closed.

Behind him, his followers exchanged nervous glances. Some even gestured to each other and then their master, completely unsure of his behavior or what they were supposed to do. Tentatively, one brave Death Eater, or perhaps an exceedingly foolish one, inched forward.

"My Lord," McNair called softly. "Master," he tried again, turning back to look at his companions.

They simply shrugged, and one made an emphatic motion with his wand.

"Sire," the lead Death Eater murmured, "we're going to begin with our scans now."

Voldemort didn't reply. Instead, he simply made a dismissive gesture with his hand, not even bothering to punish McNair for his presumption. Slowly, the Dark Lord took another step. But this one was to the side, and he began to circle around the Veil, studying it carefully.

McNair breathed a sigh of relief, thanking Siobhan for his good fortune. With a nod, he moved forward, flicking his wand.

After a moment of hesitation, the others followed.

A few minutes passed in relative ease, the Death Eaters swept their spells over the archway, making notes as they went. Meanwhile, their lord continued to circle it, absentmindedly twirling his wand through his fingers, his attention fixed on the still fluttering Veil.

However, Voldemort soon felt a tingle of magic run down his spine, eyes shifting from the arch to the room around him and suddenly hardening. In that instant, he knew the tranquility was merely the calm before the storm. A fact that became readily apparent when three Death Eaters simultaneously fell beneath red-purple blazes of light. Another far darker burst sped at the Dark Lord in the very same moment. But unexpectedly, he twirled his wand, wordlessly forming a silvery shield just behind him.

Voldemort's gaze casually drifted over his shoulder, and he cocked a hairless eyebrow. He emotionlessly watched as his followers engaged in battle with several Ministry officials, his inner rage completely hidden. He noted Director Avis herself at the far end of the room, successfully dueling against two lower level Death Eaters at the same time. Nearby, he noted McNair fall under the silver-blue light of Kingsley Shacklebolt's hex, nonchalantly watching as the bald Auror darted to another opponent.

The Dark Lord contemplated stepping in at that moment, finding the Order member a worthy opponent. Yet, his attention was drawn elsewhere, and he again weaved his wand, blocking an Implosion curse with relative ease. His attention was unerringly drawn to the castor.

Madam Bones frowned at him before sending a Reductor, and Voldemort merely titled his head, the spell flying right over his shoulder and through the space he had just been. She followed it up by casting a Banishment hex, and he again titled his head, the magic soaring over his other side. Growling fiercely now, Amelia hurriedly sent a Blood-Boiling jinx, and the Dark Lord was actually forced to lean to the side to avoid it.

Laughing to himself, Tom Riddle's eyes blazed with ominous mirth as he successfully sidestepped another curse. He moved forward then, and Voldemort raised his wand-free hand and drew power into his very palm. It flared, blazing an eerie green.

Another smile tugged at his lips. And it promised pain and suffering. And most certainly death.

* * *

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, The Headmaster's Office: The Same Day_**

"Maker," Harry whispered, "there are so many."

His eyes roved over the enchanted image he was currently looking at, which featured a meadow not too far outside of Hogsmeade. The dying rays of the sun highlighted the silhouette of countless creatures, all of them slowly moving away from the village and down the path to the castle. A sickened sort of dread coiled in the reborn Salazar's belly, even as his insides seemed to freeze.

"So very many," he breathed.

And Harry wasn't referring to the Death Eaters either, though there were quite a number of them as well.

Albus squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "I know, my dear boy." He, too, stared at the image. "I know."

His eyes flickered over the picture, and it was readily apparent that he was counting all those present within it. Regardless, when he passed a hundred, the old man stopped bothering. Dumbledore figured that in the end it didn't really matter how many of the lifeless abominations they had to face. All that mattered was that they protected both the school and her students.

He squeezed the teenager's shoulder again, attempting to give him some comfort. Yet, despite the old professor's reassurance, Harry simply trembled underneath his fingertips. The young man took a deep breath and attempted to calm himself. It didn't appear to be all that effective, even after he repeated the action two more times. There was an odd cast to his face, one which Dumbledore almost thought was fearful.

But that was absurd. Why would Harry be afraid?

Yes, they were going into battle, but they knew exactly what they were up against. They had plans laid in place, so why would the boy be afraid?

"What are we going to do, Headmaster?" Tonks asked very softly, interrupting Albus' thoughts. The metamorph shifted from foot to foot, hovering next to Dominic. She cast a worried glance to the vampire, one which he seemed to return.

The old man sighed. "We will do as we had planned." His eyes turned to those present: the four Heads of House, the Auror, the Defense teacher, and his most beloved pupil. "Filius, Pomona, see to the students. Take everyone fifth year and younger to the dungeons, let only the DA members remain. Poppy, Argus, and Hagrid will meet you down there. I also believe that Remus and his lovely map will be present." He paused, waiting as the two professors hurried out.

"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore went on, looking every one of his hundred and fifty-three years. "You already know what I desire of you. I only ask that you take Auror Tonks and Professor Boyd with you now, instead of waiting for them."

The sixth-year turned to look at his mentor, eyes very wide. "I… I'll go to it then." Hesitantly, Harry nodded, resolve hardening under the headmaster's notice as it hadn't been able to earlier.

Dumbledore inclined his head and gave Harry's shoulder another squeeze. "Be safe, my boy," he whispered, leaning down to look in his pupil's eyes. "Be safe, Harry." He had the sudden urge to hold on and never let go.

Unexpectedly, Harry turned completely around, embracing his professor. "I will. I just ask the same of you. Whatever it is you decide," he breathed and held on tightly, "but I really think that you're needed elsewhere." Harry let go and stepped away, belatedly noticing that the others were not-so-subtly watching him.

His gaze drifted to Tonks and Dom. "Ready then?" he questioned softly, not quite meeting their eyes.

The metamorph gave him a half-smile, her hair changing from neon pink to a nondescript brown. "As I'll ever be."

She waltzed out the door without a backwards glance, and the weakly grinning vampire followed in her wake. Harry gave the remaining people one final look before sweeping out himself.

Albus watched them go, exhaling heavily. The two other professors simply and quietly stood behind him, their hands brushing and fingers intertwining.

Dumbledore finally spoke after several heartbeats. "Severus?"

The spy stiffened momentarily. "Yes?"

"You know what to do?" It was more of a question than a statement.

Severus replied with an edged to his voice, "Yes, I'm to protect my Slytherins, maintain my position at all costs. Just as the Dark Lord desires." A sneer tugged at his face, but it disappeared an instant later as he looked at the headmaster. "And what of you, Albus?" the Potions master inquired. "Will you stay?"

The old man bowed his head, the twinkle in his eyes completely gone. "Yes. Yes, I will. I am needed here."

"That may be, but you're also needed at the Ministry, Albus," Minerva put in fiercely. "You know that **he** will there. No one but you can stand up to him." She gestured with her free hand.

He half-turned around. "I am staying," Dumbledore responded emphatically, a spark of power crossing his face.

"And what will happen if he goes unopposed there, Albus?" the deputy headmistress shot back fervently and not even a hard squeeze to her hand could make her take a calmer tone. "They won't be strong enough to stand against him. He'll simply waltz through the entire department, killing all in his path."

The Slytherin Head of House inserted, "We are more than strong enough here. The Aurors are just awaiting orders to appear, and all the upper-years are assisting us. You have to go," the dark man urged.

"You have seen how many we are up against," Dumbledore returned, eyes flashing again. "No, I am needed here."

Minerva all but growled, "No, you're needed there more." There was a sudden shrewd expression on her face. "If this is about Harry… well, he understands. You heard what he said. He all but begged you to go."

The headmaster stiffened completely. "This is not just about Harry--"

"No," the Potions master cut in heatedly, "I think it is, but it's not just him we are fighting for."

Albus was poised to respond, but Severus kept going.

"And no, this is not about my dislike of the boy either. It's about doing all that we can right now, and for you, that is going to the Ministry. It will do us no good to overprotect the school, while the Dark Lord gains the Gate or some other powerful artifact."

Dumbledore stared at him, entire face hard. From his perch, the previously silent Fawkes gave a chirp of complete agreement, startling the headmaster out of any retort.

Albus finally replied, "Fine, I'll go." He slumped slightly. However, he was recovered within a minute; all signs of weakness now gone. "Just keep everything in one piece until I return."

He held his arm up, and the phoenix flew to him. The pair disappeared in a burst of flame.

"Don't we always," Minerva whispered to the Potions master just after the headmaster had left.

Severus didn't reply.

* * *

**_Hogwarts, The Grounds:The Same Day_**

A short time later, Harry was walking across the grounds. Like the other upper-years, DA members, and teachers, he was moving into position, waiting for the Death Eaters to attack. Luna was next to him with Hermione and Ginny a few steps further to the right. Neville was a good distance away, walking proudly with Draco, despite the odd looks the other Slytherins were giving them. Dominic, Severus, Minerva, and the other teachers were spread out at intervals throughout the assembled group. Tonks was toward the far side, on opposite ends with Bill and Molly Weasley, who had just arrived.

The reborn Salazar inhaled slowly, trying to stem the ever rising tide of dread within him. He absentmindedly noticed the recently full moon, the only reason Remus was down in the dungeons, guarding the younger students and observing the battle via the Marauder's Map. Unconsciously, Harry clenched and then unclenched one hand, while twirling his wand with his other. But a hand on his elbow soon halted the action.

"Calm down, love," his girlfriend ordered, tugging him to a full stop. "Worrying like this does us no good. I know that you're… nervous," she said, carefully deciding her word choice, "but you still need to be calm."

The Ravenclaw flicked her wand, layering a Disillusionment charm together with a Chameleon one and a final spell before crouching low to the ground. The blonde approvingly noticed that Ginny and Hermione, as well as all those nearby, had done the same. Just as they were supposed to.

"I know that, but why did it have to be those… things?" Harry whispered back heatedly. "Why did Tom have to pick that? You know how I loath the blasted things. I'd take anything over them. Probably even Dementors." He gave an involuntary tremble before spelling himself unnoticeable, adding his second spell, and lowering to the ground as well.

Luna blinked, not entirely certain what to say. "I'm not sure," she finally murmured, "but do try to be calm. I know that you've bad memories of them, but we have to do this." She nodded with determination, lips set in a line. "We can do this. And if anything goes wrong, we can use the Gate to contact the others, summon reinforcements," the blonde whispered very softly.

This was certainly true. The Gate and its derivatives could be used to communicate with each other, though they hadn't really used them before like that. They hadn't needed to.

"I know," he responded, nerves beginning to ebb. "I just… you know how I feel about them, about the--"

Whatever Harry was about to say was lost as he received a spike of warning both from Hogwarts and the amulet around his neck. His eyes instantly flickered around, seeing nothing more than the faint outline of several dozen Disillusioned people, before flicking in front of him to the gates of the school. What he saw caused a shudder of disgust to go through him, his inside freezing entirely, in spite of Luna's warm hand on his arm. He trembled violently, squeezing his eyes shut and wishing for all he was worth that this was just a nightmare, that it wasn't really happening.

It was a sentiment shared by all those around him.

A formless shadow moved toward the castle, the twilight not enough to give it a definite shape. Nevertheless, everyone gathered already knew what it was, and the thought alone terrified most of them.

No less than a hundred putrid, foul, disgusting Inferi with their Death Eater escort were approaching the gates of the castle. And they would be there within less than a minute.

There was a surge of magic as Hogwarts' wards desperately fought to keep the Inferi out, but there were so very many of them. Additionally, Dolohov, or at least that is who Harry assumed it was, removed something from his robes and flung it at the wards. The reborn Slytherin heard Hogwarts growl and then moan as the object connected. Whatever it was, the object was certainly powerful, and it caused the wards to suddenly become visible. Dolohov nodded to himself before removing a vial and rubbing an unknown substance on first himself and then spelling it onto each of the Inferi and his companions.

Harry understood in an instant.

Blood! The Death Eaters were sprinkling blood on themselves. More specifically, Tom's blood! He was a Founder's heir, a child of the Hogwarts. She had to let him in, and by proxy, all those who carried part of him with them. It was a temporary fix without him physically present; the magic of it would last for only minutes at best, but it was more than enough time.

His task done, Dolohov simply stepped up to the wards and rested his hand on it. He seemed to grunt with pleasure as his limb passed inside with little effort, and he stepped through, wading across the protections like one would a stream. The Inferi followed him in mass. And the castle was forced to let them in, lest her entire system of outside protections go down.

The line of them crossed the invisible boundary of the wards and kept coming. They staggered over the dying grasses of Hogwarts' grounds, paying no mind and focusing only on their assigned task. Several moments of heart-wrenching agony for Harry later, and the things were moving into the desired position.

The teenager felt a wave of emotion through Gate, and it was show time.

Without pause, Dominic rose from his spot in the very front, just a faint outline of a Disillusioned person. Hogwarts gathered her magic, gifting it to the vampire, and he lifted his wand above his head. Harry didn't need to hear the incantation to know what it was, not that there was even a whisper of it anyway.

'_Lucifera__Aeternus_.'

And the ever darkening twilight suddenly became day.

The vampire's allies blinked at the sudden brilliance but were otherwise unaffected due to the counters they had earlier cast on themselves. On the other hand, the Inferi shrieked painfully but only faltered a little, unlike the Founders had hoped. Apparently, Tom had come up with some way of protecting his little creatures from what should be a major weakness, and it was a loss his opponents were already feeling. A single Death Eater soon realized the spell that had been cast, and he scrambled to perform the counter, first spelling himself and then on his fellows.

Unfortunately, despite enabling the students and professors to see clearly, Dom's magical pulse did have a rather adverse side effect. It cancelled all the Concealment charms on not only him but all those around. Suddenly, where there had been an unobstructed path to the castle, there was now a variable gauntlet of people.

The Death Eaters were not pleased by this little fact either, and they made their displeasure know by send several Killing curses at the vampire in the hopes that his death would end the enchantment. Luckily, the Defense professor dodged out of the way, moving back to his allies and becoming lost in the sea of them.

Meanwhile, the Inferi kept moving forward, despite their creators' distraction. They inched closer to the students, receiving a wave of curses, hexes, and jinxes for their efforts. Harry briefly wondered if Tom had completely removed all their weakness, debating if they would still succumb to fire as they were supposed to. If worst came to worst, there were only two other real ways to disable an Inferi. The first was to use some form of energy or blessed magic, like Phoenix Tears. The second was to separate the creature's head from its body, most likely destroying the foul beast entirely and leaving it little more than stray parts.

Giving a whispered prayer, he cast a Flame hex, which connected beautifully, lighting an abomination up like a torch. But an unexpected thing happened in that moment. As one, over half of the Inferi turned and made a beeline for him, completely ignoring the other spells that were thinning their numbers.

The reborn Salazar had a sinking feeling, which only seemed to grow as he darted to the side and the things continued to follow him, still paying no mind to anything else. He wasn't sure how it was done, but somehow, the Inferi were keyed to his magical signature. The moment he had cast his first spell, they had locked on, and they would now follow him to the ends of the earth.

It had to be Tom's doing, but there was nothing Harry could do about it at the moment. And it wasn't like he could stop casting either. Even if he did, they would still follow him since they were focused on him entirely now to the exclusion of all else. Yet, he quickly cast a modified runic shield around himself, hoping the magic would successfully muddle his signature at least a little.

Afterwards, Harry growled to himself, sending out a quick Blasting curse followed by two Reductors and several fire curses. All of his spells scored direct hits, and he silently praised the now missing Luna for forcing him to work on his accuracy. He steeled himself as he noticed an Inferi far smaller than the others he had previously seen, and the teenager gritted his teeth as he sent a Conflagration jinx at it. The reborn Salazar couldn't help but tremble as the thing shrieked like the child it had once been before completely burning up.

Harry barely had a moment to catch his breath before he was set upon by four more of the things. Two of them were particularly fat, vaguely reminding him of Vernon and Dudley. This time, however, they were far more vocal than the ones he had fought previously. They insisted upon muttering to him about whatever random things crossed their broken minds, their dead gazes seeking his own, even as he obliterated them.

Five minutes later, and Harry was almost entirely surrounded. By this point, he was absolutely certain that his early assumption was correct; the atrocities were seeking him out personally. It was as if Tom had to know exactly how Harry felt about them, and the Dark Lord had made them zero in on the teenager's location just to spite him. Everywhere he turned, they were there, groaning, inching ever closer to him. There were no other students or teachers within sight. There was no tell-tale streak of vivid Weasley red or Malfoy platinum-blond, not even the glossy black of the Potions master. It was like they had simply vanished, their forms blotted out by the undead.

The reborn Slytherin couldn't help but shiver violently, even as he cursed two more into oblivion. They were everywhere. All around him, and Harry was suffocating. He couldn't breath. All he could taste was their foulness. All he could see was them, crushing down on him, and he fought the urge to shout at the glimpse of a particularly familiar seeming one.

Put simply, Harry Potter was afraid. He was surrounded by a seething mass of monsters with no help in sight. He shivered despite himself but somehow managed to keep his wand steady.

Dementors might have been Harry's greatest fear, but Inferi were Salazar's. Their putrid, frozen faces terrified him in a way that nothing else had even been able to, not even Voldemort. And he was beginning to feel the effects of his horror. He was so caught up in his own terror that he couldn't even concentrate enough to magic himself away, something well within the realm of reality for one of Hogwarts' beloved Founders.

And Harry couldn't helpful but be stricken with the irony of it all. He was the same age he had been when he'd faced Inferi the first time as Salazar, when he had been completely overrun by them and Godric had been forced to save him, almost losing his own life in the process. Harry could still remember it, could feel their rotting hands on him in his sleep at times, and the teenager knew in that moment that he would spend the next few months reliving the entire bloody experience in his nightmares.

If he survived, that is.

But things were different now. He was all alone; no one alive in sight. There was no Godric Gryffindor to save him now, to come charging through in a blaze of glory. There was no brother to rush to his rescue or to comfort him afterwards, put him back together again. He was all alone now, lost in a sea of the undead.

His growing horror only fueling his desire to be free, Harry cursed several more, almost jumping out of his skin as one snuck up behind him. The hulking monster actually managed to touch him, grasp his arm before he destroyed it. The Inferi moved closer, encircling him even more completely, despite his best efforts. For every one he blasted, another immediately took its place. The Founder was hit with a wave of despair, even as he used the Gate to mentally call for assistance.

But he knew that help would come far too late.

Not knowing what else to do, Harry tapped into the Phoenix Gate's other abilities. It was a dangerous thing given the situation and the probability of discovery, but he had little other choice. Nonetheless, even with the extra time on his hands, the Founder still found himself in an ever increasing swarm of Inferi.

'_Incendio_.'

He nailed one in its chest. The thing screamed as it was incinerated by the fire, its cries ringing in his ears.

'_Luciferum Sagitto_.'

He shot a spell out of his wand, the light arrow hitting an old woman Inferi and destroying her and three others nearby in a wave of energy. The last thing he saw of them was their accusing eyes as they faded from existence.

'_Prometheum_.'

A wave of molten flame sped out from him, clearing out a wide area in front, but it was quickly filled as more of the abominations filled in. Harry was truly starting to become desperate as he cast the spell again, yielding the same results. He panted from exertion and the drain of his magic but continued casting as the Inferi kept coming. The teenager sent another mental call for help through the Gate, but no one seemed to be listening. Even Hogwarts was ignoring him, her attention focused elsewhere.

He was almost swaying on his feet now, receiving a burst of energy from the Gate to steady him. Harry straightened and went on with his fighting, but he briefly wondered if he was only delaying the inevitable. He would give just about anything to have Godric here with him now.

It truly was ironic, fateful almost. Ironic that he had survived so much. Dark Lords, insane professors, enraged Basilisks, the Killing Curse itself. Harry had survived so very much, only to die now. He was going to die after he had finally found what he had spent his entire lifetime searching for. Again with the irony, the paradox of who had saved him previously being the same person who would destroy him now.

Fate truly hated him.

A large Inferi grabbed him from behind, and he let out an involuntary scream as it wrapped its rotting arms around him. He snapped his mouth shut a second later, destroying the thing easily enough with a Fire rune drawn with its own still seeping blood. Inside, however, his mind was still reeling, still shrieking for all he was worth as two more bore down on him. He felt the Gate warm up underneath his robe as he stumbled and was nearly trampled before he fought his way back up. The amulet all but burned beneath his robe, seeking help for him when there was none. And filled with frustration, it started to scream with him.

Not too far away, Draco blasted a single Inferi with a Flame hex, utterly destroying it with the force of his spell. He quickly took down three more in the same manner before pausing to look around. He had heard Harry's call through his phoenix pinion but had no idea where his green-eyed friend was. The blond had lost track of most of his companions sometime earlier, including Neville. He wasn't entirely sure how that had happened, though he blamed it on all the blasted Invisibility and Notice-Me-Not charms.

Who had come up with crazy the idea to spell themselves unnoticeable to confuse the Death Eaters? And which idiot had said it would be better to battle them here instead of in the castle?

Oh, right. It was him.

His eyes darted around, seeing Millicent stun a lone Death Eater who had been separated from his Inferi guard. Meanwhile, Blaise and Theo took down the man's companions, who had hurried over to help. Draco rushed through the frenzy and searched again, this time finding Dom moving to assist Seamus and Dean from a particular nasty batch of the abominations. The Prefect noted Hermione and Ginny dueling a pair of Death Eaters nearby with Luna quickly going to intercept. Even further on, Tonks and Bill Weasley took on two more wizards, while the redhead's mother and Trelawney quickly healed a shaken but mostly alive Anthony Goldstein.

Something odd tugged at Draco thoughts in that moment, and a suspicion formed in his mind. The Slytherin came to a sudden and startling epiphany as he whirled all around. There were almost no Inferi in his line of sight, an odd thing considering there were at least a hundred of the Maker-forsaken things. Regardless, he mostly saw Death Eaters and very few, if any, Inferi. He only counted five… Well, zero after Dom was finished. Still, it was not nearly as many as there should be.

Draco belatedly recognized the reason why.

It seem as though all the things were clustered to the far right, moving in a streaming horde and all but climbing over each other in their excitement. There were no visible students over there and the castle was in the opposite direction, so the blond couldn't fathom why the Inferi were behaving that way. It was almost like something had attracted them to that particular area.

Oddly, Draco noted his Head of House run full out directly to the center of the swarm. Severus blasted several Inferi out of his path as he went, but their fellows didn't seem to notice. They were too involved with their confusing task for his presence to even register. Further, there was another cloaked figure darting towards them from the opposite side, but he or she was too far away for Draco to make out who it was.

A sinking sense of dread in his belly, the Slytherin Prefect was about to follow after his Head of House when a strangled cry to his left caught his attention, and his head whipped around. Ginny's friend Athena was locked in a duel with a particularly vicious Death Eater. The masked person shot a stream of acid at the girl, who luckily managed to roll out of the way, making the most of her DA training. Still, before the Gryffindor could recover, the Death Eater was already upon her again. The person shot out a Bone-Shattering curse, which nicked the Gryffindor in the shoulder. She screamed and dropped to her knees, only to earn _Cruciatus_ for her efforts.

The fifth-year was losing. Losing rather badly, the blond noted as he dashed to her, seeing her take a Percussion jinx full in the face.

Then, there was a halo of green light around the Death Eater's wand.

Without thinking, Draco wordlessly summoned the Gryffindor to him, and the Killing curse thankfully missed her. He stepped between the Death Eater and Athena, blatantly sneering. He loathed those who harmed innocents, especially ones who were too weak to do so without first covering their face with a mask. Draco arrogantly stared into the Death Eater's face, the eyes the only visible part of them. However, Draco couldn't help but freeze as he recognized them.

After all, they belonged to his mother.

* * *

_Sic Semper __Proditoris_: Thus Always to Traitors. Actually, my Latin is more than a bit shaky, so I am not sure if this is correct.

_Lucifera__Aeternus_: Eternal Day. Non-verbal. A light spell over a large area that blinds all save the caster. It has specific counters that can be cast ahead of time to make someone immune or after the fact to remove the effects on a target person or area.

_Luciferum Sagitto_: Arrow of Light. Non-verbal. Shoots an arrow of pure energy at the target. An exceptionally powerful spell, which can break through almost any shield, both physical and magical.

_Prometheum_: Advanced Flame hex. Non-verbal. Capable of setting fire to anything, water and ice included. It grows as it advances through the air, reaching a maximum length of between 20 to 40 meters.

AN: We're slowly but surely working to the climax. I hope that everyone enjoys the ride.

**Things to think about**: Now that Nott is dead, what will happen with his group? What will happen to poor Harry? Will Severus, or anyone else for that matter, make it to him in enough time? Will Dumbledore fight Tom again? Who will win the duel between Draco and Narcissa?

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks.

Special thanks to Our Catholic Faith (online) for the Latin translation.

_Chapter__ Twenty-Nine: Here, There be Monsters, Part Two_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**  
06/26/08**


	30. Here, There be Monsters, Part Two

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

_**"**__**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

* * *

The chapter is dedicated to _TheGoldenSeraphim_ for her awesome reviews and comments.

**  
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Here, There be Monsters, Part Two**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, The Dungeons: October 31st, 1996_**

Remus stared at the Marauder's map, his brow furrowed. How he wished he could be out there right now, helping his friends. He should be out there, protecting his adopted godson, the very last member of his pack. He had sworn to Lily and James and then later to Sirius that he would look after Harry if anything ever happened to them, and the werewolf fully intended to keep that promise.

But the blasted full moon was getting in his way.

It had been only been two days ago, but it still left him weak and shaking, not healthy enough to be of use in a full-on battle. Still, the urge to project the pack's cub was strong, even if the cub himself was all but grown.

Truthfully, Remus had been somewhat surprised by the change in Harry over the summer, something that was nothing short of a miraculous transformation. Gone was the angry and depressed boy. And in his place was a man, an intelligent and strong yet compassionate man.

Remus couldn't possibly have been prouder, and he knew Sirius would have been, too.

Harry had grown; he had left the very last vestiges of childhood behind, whatever scant ones remained after living with the Dursleys for fifteen years. He had shown up at headquarters with a strategy to defeat Voldemort already in the works, one which hadn't really needed much tweaking or input from his friends. Still, he had worked through it with those he trusted, highlighting the key points and willingly reworking the ones he wasn't sure about. He had solicited their opinions on the headmaster, the Order, the war, and the wizarding world at large in a way he never would have before.

Harry truly was an adult now. The young man was quick, witty, and wise. He was calm and thoughtful with a wicked twinkle in his eye. He was mischievous yet friendly.

He was scarily similar to Albus Dumbledore

And he was just as much Remus' friend now as the werewolf had been with James and Sirius. Though Harry would always remain his surrogate godson, no matter how old he was.

And now, Remus had to find his cub, his friend. He had to know how Harry was, if he was alright, though the map wouldn't really tell him that.

He had tried the easy method, of course. Remus had tapped the map with his wand and had said, "Harry Potter." But it hadn't worked. The map hadn't zeroed in on the teenager. And that meant one of three things. Harry wasn't within the range of the map. He was dead. Or the map was malfunctioning.

Remus knew the first to be false. Harry was definitely up there, and the werewolf doubted the Death Eaters would have had the time to kidnap him and drag the sixth-year off. If they had even been able to take him down in the first place.

The second sent a shiver of pure dread up Remus' spine, so he flat out refused to even think of it.

So that left only option three. The map wasn't working properly. It was the most likely, too, especially when counting the fact that Remus had seen the name _Rowena Ravenclaw_ briefly blink into existence where there had only been _Minerva McGonagall_ and _Archimedea Vector_ before.

So if the map was malfunctioning, that meant he would have to search manually, which was exactly what he was doing. His eyes scanned the parchment's surface, gliding over all the assorted names. And were there ever names.

There had to be several hundred people listed on the grounds alone, most of whom were no longer alive. Luckily though, the Inferi didn't show up like everyone else on the map. In truth, the blasted parchment seemed rather confused what to do with them. It didn't know if they qualified as people or as objects, so it just displayed them in a very hazy grey. But despite that fact, Remus couldn't help but goggle at the sheer amount of them, trying not to read their names as his eyes searched.

Beside him, the former professor heard a sniffle, which momentarily distracted him from his quest. Remus turned to the little student who was sitting next to him, smiling kindly at the very frightened girl and her equally terrified year-mates. She merely whimpered before an older boy, a Gryffindor by his tie, went to her. However, his whispered words didn't seem to be effective, and the girl burst into tears.

Remus was just about to reach for her, waving a nearby Poppy away, when a dark-headed girl nudged both him and the older student to the side. She wrapped an arm around her friend, tucking the girl's head onto her shoulder. Then, she nodded to Remus and the Gryffindor, who looked on helplessly before taking a seat on the other side of the werewolf. Remus nodded back to the girl, staring intently into her very deep brown eyes. They looked vaguely familiar as did the student herself, though he couldn't quite place her.

At least, she seemed to be taking the situation rather well, and she was one of the few in her year or among any of them really. Out of all those gathered, the first-years were taking it the worst, not that anyone could really blame them. They were just children, in the truest sense of the word, and were so very young. It was understandable that they would be frightened. Well, terrified more like. It was only months into their magical education, and they were already being attacked, a battle happening just above their heads.

Even the older students interspersed throughout and Remus himself, who sat at the middle of their large group of first and second-years, could not seem to comfort them. The werewolf shuddered to think what would happen if the Death Eaters actually managed to enter the castle, if they were forced to flee through the secret tunnels Albus had shown Filius, Pomona, and he just days earlier. Remus didn't know how well the children would handle that, though he could hazard a guess. Just the thought alone sent chills down his already aching spine.

"Do you see my brother on there?" the dark-headed girl from earlier asked him, interrupting his reverie. At his look, she gestured at the map with her free hand, her friend's head still on her shoulder.

Remus blinked at her calm tone. "What's his name?" He eyed the first-year's Slytherin crest absentmindedly, mind focused on the fact that these children had to know he was a werewolf but that they were also close to him in spite of it.

"Blaise… Blaise Zabini," she replied slowly. "He said that he had to, you know," she carried on.

Remus looked at her with bewilderment.

"Blaise said that he had to protect the school, that he had to protect me. He had to stand with his friends."

The former teacher's face alit with comprehension, glancing back to the girl, who looked remarkable like her older sibling. "I can understand that. If I recall correctly, Blaise was very loyal to his friends when I had him as a student."

The girl gazed up at him, worry beginning to become visible on her face despite her attempts to quell it. She shivered very slightly, but it wasn't from the cold air of the room.

"Well, let's see if we can find him then," Remus put in, seeing her fight the losing battle. He eyed the map before deciding that he might as well try again, so the werewolf tapped it with his wand.

"Blaise Zabini."

Instantly, the map zoomed onto a spot near the direct center of the field in front of Hogwarts. There, in very dark ink, was the Slytherin in question, his name and little icon bouncing to the side as he sidestepped a streak of orange light from a dot labeled _Patrick Goldstein_. Remus, the Zabini girl, and the Gryffindor on the werewolf's other side watched with bated breath as another person, _Millicent Bulstrode_, appeared in their field of view. A flare of red-purple light left her miniscule and inky wand as she hexed the Death Eater from behind. His dot went still, though didn't fade away.

The first-year heaved a sigh of relief and blinked her slightly watery eyes up at Remus. "Thank you," she whispered, watching as her brother and his friend joined up with _Theodore Nott_ and cursed another Death Eater in the back.

"What about Harry?" the older Gryffindor boy questioned after a moment. "Have you seen Harry on there?" the mousy student asked again.

Remus turned to look at him and belatedly realized that it was Colin Creevey, his godson's occasional stalker and sometime photographer. How he hadn't recognized the boy earlier was beyond him. Though truthfully, the werewolf had been rather distracted with the map, and his mind had taken to wandering as it sometimes did just after the full moon. Remus absentmindedly wondered why Colin wasn't in the battle, especially since he was a member of the original DA. Most likely, it was so the younger students would have extra protection in the event that the Death Eaters entered the castle. Or perhaps he simply hadn't wanted to fight, though the former teacher seriously doubted that.

"I haven't seen him yet," Remus admitted, trying to be quiet so that only Colin could hear him. "The map is malfunctioning, so it only lets me do a quick search sometimes. It worked with Blaise but not Harry."

"Malfunctioning?" the Gryffindor queried, his voice full of alarm. "Are you sure that he hasn't been taken or that he isn't…" the boy trailed off, unwilling to continue.

The older man responded hurriedly, "He's not dead, Colin." Remus patted the boy's shoulder. "I know that map is malfunctioning since people keep showing up that couldn't possibly be there." His eyes trailed back to the map, landing on two particular names. "See, even now, it has _Rowena Ravenclaw_ and _Elgin Hufflepuff_."

Colin gave a small smile. "And they can't possibly be there; we know that at least one of them has been dead for a thousand years, and the other, well… I didn't think there were any of that Founder's family left."

"Not the family name," Remus put in as he searched the map once more, "but I think the line is still active."

The Gryffindor bit his lips, watching as the former professor continued to look over the parchment. Several moments passed that way, with the werewolf frowning severely, before the boy hopped up and slowly wandered away.

Remus, however, didn't even notice. He was too wrapped up in his task to even see the little Slytherin beside him put her head on his shoulder, her worried but oh-so-tired eyes drifting shut.

The former professor's gaze roved over the parchment, pausing as he recognized certain people. Remus eyed the names _Draco Malfoy_ and _Narcissa Black Malfoy_, flinching when he realized that the two were dueling, an apparently unconscious _Athena Avis_ nearby. He saw Draco dive out of the way of a pair of blue-black lights, the definite color of a _Cruciatus_ curse. But the young man did manage to send back a yellow spell of his own, his mother barely stepping out of the way. A little voice bubble appeared above the teenager.

"_Espejo Mágico_."

And Narcissa's next spell bounced straight back at her.

Wide eyes gaped at the duel, unable to tear away his gaze. Still, as much as the werewolf wanted to continue watching, as much as he wanted to see if the Slytherin would make it out alright, the man had another mission. Remus had to find Harry.

Resolve filling him, he forced his amber eyes to another spot, looking determinately at a different portion of the map. Strangely, this part seemed to be entirely filled by Inferi. They were everywhere, a veritable sea of the undead. The entire section of the map was a grey cloud of them as there were so many that their names overlapped and were impossible to read.

The former teacher studied the hazy mess of Inferi, eyes flickering over it. Yet, something at the direct center of the swarm caught his attention. There was a single bit of black writing amongst all the grey, and the werewolf squinted, moving his head closer. The seething hoard of Inferi jostled over the lone, black icon, obscuring it. Moments passed, the grey clouding the edges of the name, even as the person in question blasted the abominations away. There was a sudden burst of pure bluish-white, a massive flame spell, and an area around the person cleared.

At last, Remus was able to read it. And he goggled at the name, his stomach dropping to rest somewhere near his ankles.

_Harry Potter_.

His surrogate godson was in the middle of the seething mass of Inferi that were, even then, reforming around him.

The wolf inside him rose forcefully, urging him to abandon his post and rescue his cub, but sense soon won out. Remus knew he couldn't leave. He was in no condition to assist Harry. Most likely, if he went to him, the older man would be more liability than liberator.

Still, he couldn't just sit there and do nothing. There had to be something.

But even as he watched Harry battling his way through the Inferi, something unexpected happened. His name quickly blurred and disappeared, though the tiny, inky person underneath it remained. And Remus' heart jumped into his throat, not knowing what this meant. Fortunately, his agony was short-lived as the map quickly wrote something else in the words' place.

_Salazar Slytherin_.

Remus simply goggled at it, minutes ticking by. He just stared, watching as the little icon continued to fight the Inferi, completely oblivious to what was happening to the writing flashing above. More time flew by, and the man started when the name again blurred and was once more rewritten.

_Harry Potter_.

Confusion filled Remus completely, but the urging of his wolf tugged at his mind once again. Dragging his attention back to the task at hand.

Frantically, Remus' eyes darted around the grey swarm, hoping against hope that someone was nearby, that **anyone** was nearby. Evidentially, his whispered prayers were heard as the man noticed two more black names dart onto the scene, battling their way from the edges of the hoard toward Harry. And with bated breath, he turned his gaze to the first of them.

_Severus Snape_.

He breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that his cub was in good hands. So he turned to the second, only to immediately snarl, the girl on his shoulder waking with a start. Remus positively growled at the map, amber eyes burning with rage. The wolf within him rose again, this time in grief and anger.

If anything, Harry was in more danger than before, even counting the hundred Inferi surrounding him. And Remus was not going to sit idly by, watching as his friend was murdered.

He had to get help for Harry. He had summon someone, get them to go in his place.

And in that moment, Remus knew exactly what he had to do.

* * *

**_Department of Mysteries, Various Locations: The Same Day_**

Alastor Moody smiled grimly as he heard the thump of a body behind him, and his magical eye whirled from Nott to his two other opponents. Trust the same Death Eater who had cost him his eye to forget that he had a magical one now. The ex-Auror chuckled at that thought as he blasted one dark-robed figure and then the other in the very same fashion, the woman not even knowing what hit her.

He just loved stupid opponents; they were their own worst enemy.

Mad-Eye rounded to curse another, one of the new Auror recruits taking out the man's partner. Alastor's smile widened at the next spell his helper cast, watching as her Patronus tore through the Death Eater ranks, her silvery horse corporeal enough to actually kick one of them in the head. He eyed the girl, seeing her take down a foe with a sharp kick of her own to the groin.

'Johnson,' Moody recalled, magical eye whirling about. 'She's one of Potter's people,' he added and saw that all of the Death Eaters were down for the count.

He mentally calculated as he noted their numbers. Mad-Eye was pleasantly surprised when he realized that while they had some casualties, there were no fatalities. At least not on their side. The Death Eaters hadn't been so lucky, but it wasn't like he was going to cry over that fact or anything. It was their own damned fault.

"Johnson, report!" Alastor barked out to the young woman and hobbled over.

"We have a few injuries, sir," she replied steadfastly, handing her friend over to one of the field medics and standing at attention, "but the worst are Alicia's broken ankle and Percy's dislocated shoulder."

Moody nodded, mad eye swiveling over to the redhead, who was being tended by an older Unspeakable. The ex-Auror briefly wondered if the boy's transfer into the Department of Mysteries had been willing. He also speculated whether Arthur knew what his son had been up to or not. His mind further drifted to the Weasley patriarch and Apollo, curious as to how they were holding up against their former friend, but Alastor's common sense and the current situation soon caught up with him.

He didn't bother to reprimand her for using her friends' first names in her report. "What else, recruit?" he commanded.

The former Gryffindor kept a straight face, despite the excitement in her eyes. "Two Death Eaters are dead with three more critical. Master Healer Tonks is overseeing them now."

"Good." Moody nodded again, his attention going from the recruit to the Healer and back. "You did good today, Johnson. Real good. You were diligent and observant, but you also used unexpected tactics." Both of his eyes whirled to look at the tall female, who was just an inch shorter than him. "Tell me, where did you learn that to do with your Patronus, Johnson? That's a tactic I haven't seen since the war against Grindelwald."

The dark-skinned recruit had to fight a grin at the praise. "From a friend during the DA meetings last year, sir."

"Potter?" the ex-Auror asked with a slight hitch to his voice, even as he hobbled over to the downed Death Eaters and motioned for the girl to follow.

She shook her head. "No, sir. Harry just instructed me on how to cast it and make it corporeal." Angelina paused to help the Aurors and Unspeakables spell bindings on their captives. "It was Luna Lovegood, sir. She said that she learned it from her grandfather."

Several corridors away, Apollo Avis ducked, a Stunner whizzing over his head and hitting one of the display cases. Well, it would have hit the case had the Shielding spells that were laced throughout the vault not activated, absorbing the magic. The Unspeakable dodged again as his former friend sent a Blinding hex followed by a Percussion jinx, both of which hit a bookshelf. The shield snapped into focus again, this time deflecting the spells toward the ceiling.

Growling now, the Death Eater sent another volley of magic, stomping as his adversary ducked around a row of shelves. Despite the smell of power in the room and the feel of energy from his spells, Apollo was grateful to notice that Rookwood wasn't aiming to kill. At least, not yet. Perhaps the ex-Unspeakable just couldn't bring himself to do that to his old friend, though the Order member wasn't willing to bet on that.

Rookwood had murdered his boss, Director Revan, who they were still finding pieces of sixteen years later. Well, supposedly murdered at any rate. The other Unspeakables still weren't sure what spell was used. Much less who actually did it, though most suspected Augustus Rookwood.

The brunet zipped around another shelf, separating himself from his foe and hoping to flank him. He briefly wondered how Arthur was, praying that the two other Death Eaters hadn't harmed him. He had lost the redhead in the chaos when the pair had shown up, moving to help their leader. Rookwood had actually managed to alert them to his situation somehow, though Apollo hadn't seen him do it.

The Order member glanced around, seeing no other people or spells racing by, and he started to not only wonder about his friend's condition but also where the hell he was. Apollo snapped out of his reverie as magenta light flashed into existence, clipping him in the side. Flames raced through his belly, and he immediately knew that he had been hit by a Fire-Fever jinx, a spell designed to incapacitate the victim by overheating them in seconds. It wasn't deadly or particularly dangerous in its own right, but it would leave him completely helpless as fever ravaged his body. Luckily though, Apollo knew the counter, casting it on himself before the fire could spread further than his stomach.

However, the Unspeakable's luck seemed to have run out as another spell flew at him from behind. He didn't have enough time to move out of the way, and the Bone-Shattering curse lived up to its name as it caught his ankle. Apollo felt the bone splinter, pain shooting up his leg. He bit his lip to keep from crying out and alerting the Death Eater to his presence, which didn't really matter since the man already knew where he was.

All this time he had been trying to flank Augustus, only to be outflanked by him. He had forgotten just how good his friend had been at chess. In fact, Rookwood had usual beaten him, and it was a reminder that was greatly emphasized by the red light that flew from above and caught the Order member in the shoulder as he sagged into one of the display cases.

Just a few feet away, by the entrance to the vault, Arthur's eyes flickered around. Edgecombe and the MacMillan boy were down for the count nearby, victims of a specialized Stunner that had recently been developed by Apollo and his sister. The regular counter to the spell alone wouldn't work, and the only way for them to wake up would be for either the magic to wear off, which it would in roughly twelve hours, or for him to use a password with the counter.

That left only Rookwood, and Arthur wasn't sure if he was in good enough condition for that. His leg could barely support his weight due to the fact that it was fractured in two places, and his side was aching fiercely from a miscast Entrail-Expelling curse. Further, he had just seen Apollo brought down by another Stunner.

The redhead did have one advantage, however, one which he fully intended to use. Rookwood didn't know he was still in the fight nor had the man seen how he had taken out the two Death Eater lackeys.

Nodding to himself, he quietly spelled his unconscious foes invisible and hobbled over to one of the cases, sinking to the floor and propping himself up against it. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wand he had taken from his earlier duel, snapping it cleanly in two and tossing the pieces a few feet away. Next, he carefully placed his real wand under his leg and next to one of his hands. He then slowly lulled his head to the side, sagging against the case behind him and appearing to all the world as though he was unconscious. Or dead.

Now, all he had to do was wait, and the entire time Arthur did so, he promised himself that he would learn to duel better. It hadn't been one of his skills in the last lifetime. And that fact was coming back to bite him on the ass, if his injuries were anything to go by.

Thankfully, or maybe not, the redhead didn't have long to wait as the remaining Death Eater slowly came around the corner, wand in front. When nothing flew at him, he eased out further, eyes darting all around. Soon enough, they landed on the Arthur, studying him for several long seconds before flitting to the broken wand nearby. His gaze traveled to the exit just five feet away, not seeing his invisible and still unconscious fellows.

Thinking his opponents unconscious, Rookwood stole forward and stood to the side of his former friend and in front of a bookshelf. He was just about to stun the man again just to be sure when Arthur, who had been listening intently, took his chance. His fingers were already resting on his concealed wand, and he barely lifted the tip of it off the floor. Eyes snapping open, he cast.

Without thinking, Augustus sidestepped instead of blocking, years of training urging him to conserve his magic when he could. Only seconds too late did the ex-Unspeakable realize that he hadn't been Arthur's intended target at all, at least not in the sense he had thought.

The Stunner flew by him, and the shield snapped into being. The red light deflected beautiful, ricocheting and hitting the Death Eater squarely in the back before he could even move away. His last conscious thought was how much trouble his was now in, just as the blackness encroached his vision and he knew no more.

In turn, Arthur heaved a sigh of relief and promptly climbed to his feet. Several moments later, he found and revived Apollo, helping the man up. They both limped back over to Rookwood and stood next to each other, staring at their fallen friend.

The brunet couldn't help but laugh at the irony of it all when he learned what happened, causing the other man to look at him bemusedly. While Rookwood had often beaten him in chess, Arthur had always gotten the both of them.

Elsewhere, Tom Riddle looked down at the bleeding Auror in front of him, smiling as the dark-skinned man struggled for breath. His gaze wandered then, knowing his opponent was in no condition to challenge him. Especially with his wand in pieces and with a fair portion of his life's blood currently on the floor around him, even more joining it with every heartbeat. Still, the man's single, golden earring did make a nice contrast to all the red, if the Dark Lord did say so himself.

Laughing at the thought, Riddle's equally bloody gaze flickered to the carnage around him. He momentarily glanced at the corpse of Amelia Bones, the witch's dead eyes open and staring. Though she had put up a valiant fight, she had been no match for him, and all it had taken to fell her was a quick and silent Killing curse. Even the fact that she had sidestepped and had used her wand to summon a piece of debris in front of her had not saved the woman. The residual energy alone had been more than enough to finish her.

His attention roved again, noting McNair lying in a heap at the edge of the dais, his head several feet away. Voldemort merely sniffed at the loss, absentmindedly wondering who he could promote to replace his formerly favored creatures expert.

He took in the sight of Director Avis blasting yet another one of his Death Eaters, the man landing with a sharp snap against the far wall. The complete limpness to his follower let Voldemort know that the man was beyond saving, not to mention the way he slid down the wall.

The Dark Lord's lip curled then, a hiss leaving his throat. He would have to deal with her and do it now before she became a real problem. His eyes went back to the bleeding Auror, who was even then trying to get to his knees. Riddle had to give the man credit; he didn't seem to give up, even with the odds stacked against him. Even when he was dueling Lord Voldemort himself. Such a person was worthy of respect, worthy of a better end than slowly bleeding to death. So the serpentine man flicked his wand, bringing it forward, the words of the Killing curse filling his mind.

He was just about to complete the motion when a terrible scream ripped through his thoughts and burned its way up from his very core. He violently trembled as it ravaged his senses, his wand slipping through his suddenly limp fingers. The shriek tore through him, pure agony racing by in its wake. It was like being hit by a dozen _Cruciatus_ curses all at once, and he fell to his knees, the Veil fluttering at the edge of his Basilisk-hide boots. A scream of sympathy echoed from his mouth, the pain of both he and the other person reverberating through the hollow chamber. The sound momentarily stunned everyone present, Ministry workers and Death Eaters alike pausing in their duels. Most wondered if a Banshee was on the loose.

Nevertheless, it was over almost as soon as it started, and the shriek died within his mind, its resonance soon fading. The shivers remained for several moments, though they lessened with every breath. Still, within seconds, Voldemort was struggling to his feet. He reached for his wand and managed to grasp it in a shaky hand. Rage had now replaced the agony, and the Dark Lord was burning with it, burning with the humiliation that something could weaken him so much. He actually flushed with shame at the knowledge that so many people had seen, including some of his own.

He wanted an end to this battle, and he wanted it now! Tom wanted to get out of here, his unfinished mission be damned. He had to leave. He had to return to his palace, find the source of this scream, this weakness.

But first… first, he had an Auror and a Director to finish off.

Drawing up his power, his anger, his rage, he pointed his wand at the still bleeding Auror, who had actually made it to his knees. The bald man defiantly looked up at the Dark Lord, his eyes blazing. But Voldemort didn't really care. Instead, he just flourished his wand, and his mouth opened to say the spell as he wasn't quite sure he could manage to cast it silently.

"_Avada Keda_--"

A tingle down his spine was all the forewarning the Dark Lord had as he hastily cast another spell instead. The silvery shield shook, resounding with a clang as it intersected whatever magic had just been flung at it. Voldemort whipped around to face his new opponent, a sneer on his face.

However, Albus Dumbledore merely smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Hello, Tom."

* * *

**_Hogwarts, The Grounds: The Same Day_**

Harry Potter was having a bloody awful day, one filled with swarms of Inferi that insisted on singling him out personally. Currently, they were all around him, inching closer, despite all the spells he launched at them. There were simply too many for him to fight. But just as the Inferi completely encroached on him, there was a whisper of magic. And more than half keeled over on the spot. A flash of a black robe was all the sixth-year saw before he immediately turned and began to cast more curses. While the Inferi were significantly thinned now, there were still quite a number of them. And they insisted on still attacking him.

Luckily, just as they were beginning to regroup from their sudden losses, another person appeared onto the scene. There was a sudden burst of flame just above Harry, and Fawkes swooped in to join him. The phoenix seemed momentarily surprised by the teenager's helper, but the bird took it in stride, simply flapping himself over to the nearest Inferi. With a sharp chirp, Fawkes ignited as he went by the beast, the whispers of his phoenix fire more than enough to set it completely ablaze. The bird went on his cheery way, and every undead within a twenty meter radius soon met the same fate as the first.

Harry just trembled involuntarily, watching as they were reduced to ashes in seconds. There was a fluttering of black robes at the edge of his vision, and the reborn Salazar whirled towards it. Using the moment of reprieve, Harry glanced at his original savior, and even with her mask on and her hood up, he could tell exactly who it was. A relieved smile graced his face at the irony of it all before his situation quickly sobered him.

Bellatrix merely smirked behind her mask, casting a wide-stream Fire hex at the few remaining Inferi in their area. She followed it up with a Blasting hex, taking down a pair of stragglers.

"I… thank you," Harry said after he had finished the last one and had looked for any others within range. The teenager turned to her, not sure what else to do or say.

"No, thank you, cousin," Bella replied, and she didn't have to say what it was for.

Yet, it was with those simple words that everything between them: the hurt, the anger… Everything suddenly became a mere memory. A spark of understanding shot between the two, and his dim world unexpectedly became a bit brighter.

Harry stopped shaking.

However, the arrival of yet another person prevented her from saying more. Hogwarts' very own Potions master strode into view, blasting a lone and half-burnt Inferi as he went. His robes billowed behind him as he hurried over to Harry, casting the masked woman a quick and assessing glare before swiftly dismissing her.

"Potter," Severus stated, worry obvious in his voice as he stopped in front of Harry. Dark eyes took in the visible cuts and scratches on the reborn Salazar's arms. Thankfully, they weren't very deep.

"I'm fine," Harry responded readily enough. "Really," he added at the man's skeptical sniff. "Bellatrix here and Fawkes came to my rescue, but there is no time for that. We have to go." He moved to step back into the battle, but the tone of the witch's voice caused him to hesitate.

"Harry… Severus…" Bellatrix breathed, her eyes very wide and her wand in her hand.

She nervously twitched, not knowing what to do. The Potions master was a Death Eater, and he had just seen her rescue Potter. By the Maker, she was just standing by the boy, chatting with him like they weren't mortal enemies!

"He's with me," Harry put in quickly, as if reading her mind. "I trust him as I trust you, Bellatrix."

She gaped at him.

"But there is no time to explain. We're in the middle of a battle, if you haven't noticed."

She gave a weak snort, not being able to help herself, and said after a minute, "If you say he's with you, then I believe you." Bellatrix gave the Potions master a cautious glance.

Harry nodded, but out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Fawkes weave to the left and into the heaviest group of Inferi. Still, there was another hoard of them heading the trio's way from the other side. The teenager didn't even pause to rest or say anything else before going after them, though he did motion for the others to follow. Now was not the time for pleasantries or anything else of a similar nature; no matter how much he wished it was.

"How did you find me, Bellatrix?" Harry questioned, even as he moved.

Severus fell into step.

"I just followed them to you. They seem keyed to your magical signature somehow," she responded, as if nothing had happened between the three of them. The witch ran to catch up with the two males. "Besides, most of these are ones that I weakened the magic on, and it's odd that they are all clustered in one area."

He contemplated her earlier statements. "The surge… yes, of course," Harry murmured to himself, but the teenager suddenly blinked as something occurred to him. "How many did you spell?"

"Not nearly enough," the woman admitted and pointedly didn't look at the third person of their little group. "Maybe an eight of them, if that. There was simply too many and not enough time."

The teenager nodded, listening intently. "Do you know of any other way to stop them? Something faster?"

Both Bellatrix and Severus shook their heads, quickly moving up beside him as he stopped several yards from the approaching Inferi. Harry simply sighed and watched Fawkes set a few more abominations on fire out on the far left of them. He turned his attention back to the monsters nearby, preparing to hex them into oblivion.

If only there was some better way to disable the Inferi though. Or better yet, control them. Send them back to their creator. But how? Was it even possible?

And it was like a light went on in his head. In that moment, Harry had a sudden and rather brilliant plan, if he did say so himself. There was a way for him to gain control of the Inferi. It just required a slight bending of several laws.

He quickly looked to his companions, completely capturing their attention with a single glance. An unexpected but very welcome smirk spread across his face, even as a rather fat Inferi waddled closer to him.

The teenager pointed his wand. "_Imperio_."

Not so far away, blue-black light sped at Draco Malfoy just as he finished intercepting the vivid, green flash that had just been sent at the still helpless Athena. But the Slytherin didn't have enough time to react to the second spell, and it hit him, shattering his shield before he could move away. Terrible pain flared through him as the _Cruciatus_ curse connected, and he would have shrieked had his throat actually been willing to work.

It refused, however. But his screams still clawed at it, nonetheless. Endless moments passed in the throes of agony before the spell silently ended. The Slytherin tried to raise his wand, but his hand refused to obey. Draco finally opened his eyes, wondering when they had closed, also confused by how he had ended up on his knees. He couldn't even remember falling to them.

"Tut tut, Draco," his opponent said coldly, watching him twitch on the ground. "I expected better from you. Why are you even fighting me, my son?" Narcissa Black Malfoy hissed at him. "You should be glad that I am here, ridding the school of the filthy heathen. You should thank me, not duel against me!"

She sent another _Cruciatus_, one he again couldn't dodge. Thankfully, the Death Eater lifted it within a moment, clearly not wanting her child too damaged. But unbeknownst to her, his phoenix pinion chose that moment to flare under his robes, spreading relieving warmth through him and alleviating the pain. The cavalry was already on its way.

"Come now," Narcissa intoned, as though she hadn't just tortured on her own son. "Come, my little dragon. It's time for us to leave. You will come back with me. Our lord will forgive this little transgression, but he won't stand for any more defiance."

Draco struggled to his feet, discreetly fingering his wand as his mother watched with a sickening smile of encouragement. But her eyes flickered just behind him for an instant, and the Slytherin Prefect knew they were no longer alone. Nevertheless, there was another brief spark from his phoenix pinion, and Draco let out a silent sigh of relief.

"Come, love. It's time to go home to our lord," Narcissa inserted with a sickeningly sweet voice, and the heinous fiend of a woman held her hand out to him.

But he wouldn't take it. "No." Draco straightened his back, ignoring the still lingering aches in his muscles.

Narcissa froze at his tone, her mouth actually hanging open. "What?" she asked, sounding like she couldn't believe her ears.

"I said no, mother." Draco inclined his head, feeling more like himself now and giving her a patronizing smirk. "It's rather simple, and I believe even you would be able to understand. You see, my place is here… at Hogwarts, and I am not going anywhere with you."

Draco heard the swish of another Death Eater stepping up behind him, but the Slytherin wasn't worried. His phoenix pinion had already let him know that help was just about to arrive.

The woman sneered. "You ungrateful little snot. You have no choice in this!" She brandished her wand at him. "I think that you just need a little more persuasion. _Crucio_!"

Draco ducked and sidestepped at the same time. He dodged two _Cruciatus_ curses, the one his mother had cast and the one from Dolohov, who had been standing behind him. Instead of hitting him, the spells continued on their merry way. Narcissa's nailed her ally in the chest, and the other blue-black light clipped the furious woman in the shoulder. Both went down screaming. The curses were over in an instant since their casters had been distracted, but it was more than enough time for the just arrived Neville to work his magic.

The round-faced Gryffindor appeared on the scene, enchanting the grasses around the Death Eaters with a wave of his hand. The plants sprung from the ground in an instant, twining their way thoroughly around the two. The grass tangled about them tightly, actually snapping the pair's wands in its exuberance to follow Neville's directions.

Draco blinked wearily and let out a sigh of blatant relief at the sight, swaying on the spot. He inclined his head to Neville, who had just stunned Dolohov. The Gryffindor turned to him, seeing his friend paused in front of Narcissa.

Around them, the battle was already coming to a halt. The Death Eaters were all either captured or were in the process of fleeing, the students and teachers not bothering to give chase. In fact, Hogwarts' denizens were more interested in first helping the wounded and then in keeping their current captives. Sybill was even now going among the injured, healing as she went. Minerva was not too far way, helping stem the blood on Seamus Finnegan's nose with a very pale Dean assisting. Molly and Bill were in the process of rounding up all the captured Death Eaters, even as Tonks spelled bindings onto them with help from Ginny.

Further, there were less than a fifth of the original number of Inferi left, and over half of those were now strangely attacking their fellows. The rest were being swiftly taken out by Severus, Dominic, Harry, and an unfamiliar woman, Fawkes occasionally setting several dozen ablaze with his phoenix fire.

Regardless, Draco didn't really notice any of it. Nor did he note Neville put an arm around his shoulders, helping support him. The blond's attention was too focused on the still struggling Narcissa, who was now even more entangled in the plants than before. Her son simply stood in front of her and stared like he was trying to burn the image into his mind. A moment later, his wand raised, now level with her eyes. And she paused in her thrashing.

"I won't serve your master, mother," he began calmly, eyes suspiciously bright. "I don't bow to anyone, especially not someone like Voldemort," Draco said without even fumbling over the name; he sounded as if he was talking about nothing more personal than the weather. "I'm sorry." He blinked back moisture, unwilling to let her see such a weakness.

Narcissa howled with rage and spit in his face, now struggling even more violently.

Draco simply took it, looking at her for a long minute with very sad eyes. "Goodbye, mother," he stated and lifted his wand that had momentarily wavered. "Forgive me."

Pure, red light shot out of the end, nailing the woman full in the face. She slumped to the ground.

Her son exhaled shakily, leaning even more onto his friend. Draco allowed Neville to steer him away, towards the rapidly approaching Luna and Hermione. And he bowed his head, no longer fighting against the tears.

* * *

**_Department of Mysteries, The Veil Room: The Same Day_**

Albus flicked his wand, a random piece of rubbish transfiguring into a rock wall and intercepting the Killing curse for him. The green light crashed into it, shattering the stone completely. The leftover magic from the spell attempted to continue on its way, but the additional charms the headmaster had laced on the wall absorbed it entirely.

Voldemort snarled and launched another hex at his former professor. Dumbledore simply transfigured a golden shield. This time he deflected the magic back to his sender, Riddle ducking out of the way just in time.

With the Apparition wards in place and with Fawkes gone, the headmaster couldn't use his normal method of missing deadly spells, so he had to improvise. However, it didn't seem like the wards would hold very long. Tom and his followers were using every spare bit of energy and concentration to bring them down, and in spite of the strength of the protections, they were newly formed. They had only been finished two days ago, and as such, they were still charging. Further, they had not had enough time to fully connect with the building, to weave together completely.

Within minutes, they would drop. And Tom would escape, taking his servants with him. Albus knew it was inevitable, but he still had to distract Riddle, keep him from taking out his rage on anyone else.

The old professor sent three rapid spells back in response, the last one whizzing by his former student by mere inches. The Dark Lord growled, lashing out with his wandless magic. He threw it all around him, creating a veritable maelstrom of energy that rippled through the chamber. His Death Eaters quickly followed suit and joined their power to their master's in a torrent of magic. The air in the room was now virtually alive with energy, and Dumbledore ducked out of the way as a vicious bolt of it flashed where his head had just been.

The wind swirled about the headmaster, whipping his bead into his face, even as he attempted to use his own magic to calm it. Regardless, he didn't have much of a chance as Voldemort gave a sudden and violent push with the energy, sending it cascading into the walls.

And with that, the Apparition wards finally fell. As one, all of the still standing Death Eaters popped away, grabbing their unconscious compatriots. Voldemort spared one finally snarl at Dumbledore before joining them, whirling his cloak around him and disappearing without a sound.

Albus merely exhaled, dragging his weary body over to Kingsley Shacklebolt at top speed. He bent by the fallen Auror, ignoring the fact that he was kneeling in blood and using his wand to staunch the flow as best he could. Thankfully, his one-time student was still alive, though if Albus had been any later that might not have been the case. The headmaster couldn't help but tremble as Director Avis rushed over to help him, a harried field medic following in her wake.

The man pushed Dumbledore away from his patient assessing the situation, and the elderly professor rose, moving to gauge the rest of the damage to those gathered. Amelia Bones and Walden McNair both laid nearby, obviously dead. And Albus blinked away tears at the sight of his former pupils, saddened that things had to be this way.

His tired and no longer sparkling eyes travelled around the room, taking in at least three more corpses, only one of which was a Ministry employee. He noted several others injured. But already, more medi-wizards, Unspeakables, and Aurors were filtering in. Most of them looked to have just left their own battles against Tom's followers. But despite the fact that they had succeeded in their plans, despite the fact that they had forced Tom to flee, Dumbledore couldn't feel anything but sadness and an anxious desire to return to his school. There had been too much bloodshed for anything else.

The old man looked about the room again, seeing that his help was no longer needed. Everything seemed to be in order. And Kingsley, the worst injured, was now stabilized. Nevertheless, there was an inkling of dread in him, and it coiled through his belly.

The battle might have been won, but Albus had a sinking feeling that war was just about to get worse.

Much worse.

* * *

_Espejo Mágico_: Magic Mirror. Verbal and non-verbal. Can both absorb and reflect almost any spell, despite its apparent size. The absorbed energy can be used to fuel additional counters. The smaller the physical manifestation of the shield, the more powerful.

AN: There you have it folks. The battles are over. This chapter is done, and it's a rather long one, too. I believe it is the longest I have written for this story. Also, from the looks of it, the epilogue will actually be a full length chapter, instead of just the short, little thing I had originally envisioned. Too much has happened for it to be less than ten pages, I'd say. It might even reach fifteen or twenty, depending on how much I draw it out.

**Things to think about**: What was Luna up to during the battle? Now that Tom has fled, how will he retaliate? What will happen with Bellatrix since she doesn't appear to be going back to her master? How will Draco handle the aftermath of his duel with Narcissa? There is one more person to recover their memories of the past, at least in this story. Who will it be?

_To everyone who reviewed_: Thanks.

_Epilogue: __When All is Said and Done_

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**06/26/08**


	31. Epilogue: When all is Said and Done

**Disclaimer**: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.

* * *

"blah": dialogue

'blah': thoughts

_**"**__**blah"**_ : Parseltongue

_"blah"_: Legilimency/Telepathy

_Italics_: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form

**Bold**: a word or phrase that is emphasized

**_Italics, Underlined, and Bold_**: location/date of a scene in the story

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**Epilogue: When All is Said and Done**

**_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, The Great Hall: Late Winter, 963 A.D._**

Siobhan had to stifle her giggles as the owl clipped her husband in the head, landing on his breakfast. Tristan happily gurgled up at her from his place on her lap as she tried to quiet her laughter. Salazar shot the bird a dirty look, though it probably would have had more heat behind it if he knew the owl had mussed his hair when it went by. Still, he moved the animal to the side, taking the letter from its leg. The owl hooted back at him, stealing a bit of his meal and flying off. However, he didn't seem to notice. He was far too enraptured with his letter, his green eyes scanning it all the way through once and then twice. His brow furrowed as he read it a third time.

His wife watched him with a sinking feeling in her belly. Her attention was momentarily diverted to Tristan when he sneezed, and she gently curled her hand through her son's downy hair. She softly sang to him as he grasped one of her fingers with his tiny fist, putting it in his mouth. Still, her attention traveled back to her mate when she heard him exhale heavily, setting his parchment down.

Siobhan asked, even as her son gummed her finger, "Who's it from, Sal?" When she received no response, she went on, "Is something wrong? Did something happen?"

"Yes, beloved. Something did happen," he responded and held the letter open so that she could easily look it over without having to worry about their son.

Across the table, the other Founders and the teachers caught their words, most now gazing at the pair with concern. A clearly pregnant Rowena exchanged a worried glance with both her sister and Helga. Quinn raised a dark eyebrow, and Edmund blinked repeatedly. Various faculty members murmured ominously to each other, one shooing away three students who had approached the Head Table about an unrelated subject.

Godric, however, merely sniffed. He busied himself with his meal and pretending not to listen in. His hand slipped to a pocket of his robe on its own initiative, and he delicately ran his fingers over the sharp edge of the blade within. A flash of something nameless crossed his face as his thumb rubbed over the runes carved into it, but no one noticed as their attention was fixated on the Slytherin couple.

Several moments passed in relative silence as Siobhan mimicked her husband's earlier actions, gaze darting across the parchment. She sighed heavily when she was finished, just as Salazar had done. Her now bleak eyes stared into his, and an entire wordless conversation passed between them in seconds.

When the seconds stretched into a minute with no further explanation in sight, Quinn finally spoke up.

"What is it?" he inquired and set his hand down with a solid thump. "What's going on?"

Salazar looked over to him, quietly passing his letter down the table. "It's a letter from a friend in--? Well, I'm not really sure where he is," he stated by way of explanation. "He says that there has been some sort of attack on a village there. It was completely destroyed, razed to the ground."

There was a collective gasp from everyone at the Head Table, and the professors goggled at him with very wide eyes.

"And the people… the villagers?" Helga questioned with bated breath.

Salazar shook his head sadly. "Massacred. Some escaped… but not many."

There was a mass shudder, and everyone exchanged more glances. And Salazar knew he was going to have be the bearer of even worse news.

"They think it might have been Muggles," he said simply. He shakily reached for his cup, taking a sip of tea to ease his suddenly dry throat.

"What?" Quinn demanded with shock.

The others voiced equal exclamations of surprise.

Helga asked, "You mean it wasn't a Muggle village?" She pressed her mouth into a thin line, reaching for Edmund's fingers beneath the table.

"Yes," Rowena jumped in placing her hand on her belly. "I thought the other attacks had been on Muggles."

"They were," Edmund responded and blinked again. "At least, I thought they were."

Siobhan inclined her head, settling Tristan to a different spot on her lap. "Aye, that they were. Supposedly, this one was retaliation for those."

"I just… I don't understand this at all," Fiona inserted softly and rather uncharacteristically, drawing their attention. "I heard only the vaguest whisperings of this at home and a few more here but nothing on this scale." She shrugged helplessly. "Why did your friend even write to tell you of this, Salazar?"

He set down his teacup. "I wrote to a few people about what has been going on, but mostly, they don't seem to know." His eyes roved over his companions. "This is the first with any real information."

"Has everyone responded back?" Rowena inquired, rubbing a circle on her stomach.

Quinn noticed the motion and caught her hand, intertwining their fingers.

Salazar massaged his temples. "Only Faolan hasn't." He paused and thought something over. "Though, come to think of it, I haven't heard anything from him in months. Normally, I get a letter at least every few weeks."

"You don't think something has happened to him, do you?" Rowena asked.

Godric momentarily paused, ear twitching as he waited for Slytherin's answer.

The dark-haired man shook his head. "I honestly don't know. Maybe."

And Godric relaxed. His hand crept to his pocket once again, and he searched for his blade, even as the conversation continued around him.

"You know," Siobhan commented pensively, though it was more to herself than to anyone else. She had a far away look to her eyes, like she was gazing at something that no one else could see. "If we keep this up, we'll have to go in hiding."

Edmund furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about?"

At a few more confused expletives, the blonde clarified, "If things keep progressing as they are, this could lead to some kind of… altercation between magic and Muggle." Her eyes continued to stare into the distance. "To prevent that, the magical world will have to hide itself completely. It'll have to fade from Muggle memory to defend itself. They can't fight what they don't know exists."

"True," Rowena allowed and inclined her head to see what her friend found so fascinating. However, she didn't really see much of anything. "But what would the magical populace do? Put up wards?"

"It won't just be protective wards," the younger witch responded, sight still glazed over. "There'll be Invisibility and Notice-Me-Not charms around homes and businesses. Protections like we have on the castle," she went on, her hands absentmindedly ghosting over her child's skin.

Siobhan was about to go on, but someone nearby snorted loudly, snapping her out of it.

Godric sniffed again and shifted in his seat. "Bollocks." He waved a dismissive hand, adjusting his blood-red robe with the other. "I don't think anything will come of this at all." He addressed the others, "Sure, there'll probably be more tension for a time, but it'll all die down soon enough."

"Perhaps… perhaps not, but all this talk and speculation does us no good at all," Fiona cut in, sounding much more like herself. She forcefully tucked a strand of fiery hair behind her ear. "Still, we need to do something. Anything."

"Like what?" Helga shot back, and her lips pressed even tighter together. "I don't know what you expect us to do. I mean, what **can** we do?"

No one really had an answer, and quiet pervaded around the table. The conversation dwindled then, breaking off into several small groups. A few minutes passed with some of the teachers getting up to go to their morning classes a bit early. One by one, a few more left and walked briskly to catch up with their students. Finally, only a handful was left, just lingering in silence.

Unexpectedly though, a thought occurred to Siobhan.

"Rowena," the witch addressed her friend, again adjusting Tristan on her lap as he head was lolling to the side. "Have you seen the amulet? I went to check on it this morning before breakfast, but it wasn't there."

The redhead nodded. "It's still in the Charms classroom. I was showing it to some of the advanced students yesterday, telling them about a few of the enchantments," she responded after thinking for a heartbeat and pushed her chair from the table. "I'll go fetch it now."

Quinn snorted. "No, you will not," he said with a strict tone. "You will not walk all the way down there, only to walk straight back."

His wife's eye twitched, and she was undoubtedly about to make a scathing reply. However, she was beaten to it.

"I'll go," Salazar put in hurriedly. He rose from his seat and ran a hand over his head. He frowned when he realized the disheveled state of his hair, instantly blaming it on the bloody owl.

Siobhan worried her lip, her mind still partially on the attack. "Be sure to take it to the private library. All our notes are there."

"Yes, dear," he answered his wife, now attempting to straighten his hair, "I will." He nodded before glancing over to Godric, who was scowling at his plate. "Care to join me, my friend?" Sal addressed the other man.

Godric fingered his athame within his robe one final time. "Fine, but let's be quick about it. I've things to do."

Salazar smiled as he stepped out into the corridor. "Excellent. There are a few things I've really been meaning to talk with you about anyway." He absentmindedly smoothed back his hair, which was still refusing to lie flat. "It's about these new Muggle religious practices…"

His voice faded into the distance, and his wife returned her attention to their son. She kissed his tiny forehead and ran her hands over his soft, dark hair. She watched him sleep for a few endless moments. Regardless, through it all, her eyes were continuously drawn back to the doorway Salazar had just exited.

For an instant, a strange feeling rose up in Siobhan, clutching at her heart. She had an odd foreboding sensation that something horrible was about to happen to her husband. Yet, she dismissed it almost instantaneously. Salazar was in the middle of Hogwarts, for the sake of the Maker. If he wasn't safe here, then he wasn't safe anywhere.

Besides, Godric was with him. Surely, nothing horrible could happen with his sworn brother there.

Right?

* * *

**_Hogwarts, The Headmaster's Office: November 1st, 1996 (Early Morning)_**

Harry watched as Albus pulled back from the Pensieve. The old man wearily blinked his dull, blue eyes, rubbing at them before pinching the bridge of his nose. He inhaled, processing what he had just seen as he leaned back in his seat. His head was bowed and his back hunched, beard almost low enough to touch his knees. He clasped his hands together, but that wasn't enough to entirely disguise the faint trembling in them.

Truthfully, Dumbledore looked like he would pass out at any moment, and the reborn Salazar couldn't really blame him for that either. He was dead tried, too. It was well beyond midnight, and they still hadn't managed any sleep. Hogwarts had been attacked less than six hours ago, and things had only recently been sorted out. Merlin's beard, Minerva and Severus had left barely a half-hour ago. Nevertheless, they had fortunately been the last left, save Harry.

All the injured students and teachers had been treated, though a number would be in the Hospital Wing for the next several days. Thankfully, there had been no fatalities at the school, while there were a few among the Ministry personnel. The Order had only lost Hestia Jones to a stray Blood-Boiling jinx, though Kingsley Shacklebolt was a near miss, but the Healers were certain he would make a full recovery in several weeks.

Bellatrix was safely tucked away in the Sorting Hat's room as she had flat out refused to return to Tom, and neither Severus nor Harry was really willing to persuade her. They had simply shrugged at her vehement assertion, secreting her inside by means of an Invisibility charm, and no one had been the wiser to Hogwarts' new addition. Truthfully, it had been frightfully easy to sneak her into the castle, a situation that the teenager swore he would look into soon.

A number of Death Eaters, including Narcissa Malfoy, had been captured during the attack. As Harry understood it, several more had been detained at the Ministry. However, these would not swell the ranks of Azkaban, like Lucius and a number of his cohorts had in June. Instead, the more dangerous ones had been Portkeyed away by Mad-Eye, taken to a secure location where they would be watched over by trusted Order members. Strictly speaking, what Moody had done was highly illegal, but Harry couldn't find it in himself to care. Besides, Dumbledore knew and obviously approved, and it was simply a smart move on the ex-Auror's part, especially since there were unknown elements within the Ministry.

The reborn Slytherin considered the last part for a moment before allowing his mind to carry on. However, a sudden exclamation interrupted his thoughts.

"Harry!"

The teenager started in his seat and looked up into Albus Dumbledore's lined and worried face. "Yes?" he asked in return, shaking off the rest of his reverie.

"I've been speaking to you for several moments, my boy. Is everything all right?" He gazed at Harry evenly, despite his fatigue and obvious concern.

The Founder gave him a soft smile. "I'm just tired, Albus."

"Aren't we all, my boy?" The old man paused for a moment, eyeing his student over his half-moon glasses. "That memory you just showed me," Dumbledore began with a hesitant hitch to his voice, tapping the edge of the Pensieve. "I mean, this is a memory of Godric Gryffindor **murdering** Salazar Slytherin. The Hat spoke to us of it, but to actually see it? I just…" he trailed off, one hand going to his temple and rubbing small circles. The old man trembled ever-so-slightly and then just exhaled, puffing his beard.

Moments passed in tense quiet.

Finally, the headmaster simply asked the question he had wanted to ask for the last five minutes. "Where did you get this, Harry? How did you get it?" Dumbledore was practically vibrating with tension.

Harry gazed at the old man. His green eyes were searching for something, but for the life of him, Albus had no idea what it was.

Another eternity passed, and Harry sighed.

"To answer that question will require a great deal of time," the younger man replied carefully. But he could see the determination already building in Dumbledore's eyes, he and knew his mentor would not be dissuaded. "Very well," Harry put in before the headmaster could speak. He breathed in and then out, taking a moment to collect himself.

"You see, I have something of a confession to make." He paused, allowing the words to sink in before giving an elegant shrug. "Though, I admit that I am just not sure were to begin."

"Harry--" the headmaster started.

But his student silenced him with a gesture. "It's… it is just complicated. Extraordinarily so," Harry explained after taking a deep breath. "It's just so bloody complicated." He shook his head.

Dumbledore blinked and processed that statement. "Perhaps you should just start at the beginning."

Harry chuckled faintly. "I suppose that I should." He inclined his head in thought before going on, "Well, I guess my story starts with this." The teenager reached within his robes, pulling a blue amulet free from around his neck. "You see this… this is the Phoenix Gate."

_Finite Incantatem_

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AN: This is the third (or is it fourth?) draft of this chapter. I wanted to bring it to conclusion without giving too much away. Plus, the sort of cliffie ending will hopefully keep you guys and girls wanting more. To that, yes… there are multiple open ends to the plot. I left several things for the second story, such as Draco's fate, Voldemort's revenge, what Luna was doing during the battle, etc. I promise that those will be addressed. Also, I might eventually go back and flesh this ending out a bit. I am not quite happy with it.

Finally, the prologue to _In the Forest of the Night_ will be up in a few days. Hopefully, that will make up for the shortness of this chapter.

_To everyone who __read or reviewed_: Thank you so very much.

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_

**Updated and Edited:**

**06/26/08**


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